Mine's a Tale That Can't Be Told
by IAmNotANut
Summary: Where myth and superstition rule, there's much that goes bump in the night. Iruka is forced to journey far from all he's known and on the road he meets Kakashi, a wayward stray with no past or connection. As their love blooms, they will face trials beyond Iruka's imagination in a world that borders on the fantastic. When it's over, he'll have a story that no one will believe.
1. Gimme Shelter

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Gimme Shelter

...

* * *

Iruka ducked around the foliage. The tips of his fingers were numb with the biting fall breeze. His childish legs fought to keep with the procession's pace as he skittered along the deer's path up the mountain, unable to tear away from what outsider's eyes were forbidden to witness.

The diligent keepers of the shrine were clad in red and white. Their shadows, made by the light of torches, extended through the trees and poured down the endless stairs where they walked. At times, the child swore he saw the shadows move independently of their owners like curious spirits. The attendants let their chant echo through the tunnel of torii gates. It amplified their call and, rather than a few dozen, it sounded like hundreds of voices had joined them, sending a cleansing chill through the air. The pillared shadows of the torii that played across the trees along with theirs, only strengthening the illusion.

Behind him he heard nature's quiet steps. The hair rose on the back of young Iruka's neck. He knew the mortals were not alone. All manner of beasts and spirits had gathered for this night. Too fearful to peer into the darkness, Iruka pushed forward to the shrine.

The shrine grounds were cold and ancient. The trees made a wide berth, leaving only the looming shrine itself. Its thick pillars dwarfed the humans that set foot on its sacred domain. Its wood was painted red and glistened as if wet in the torchlight. These priests and priestesses revered the Inari Gods, but the shrine itself had been built in honor of something much older. Iruka's mother once told him the story of that deity, the Rabbit God that ruled over the balance of good and evil. The god influenced spirits and humans alike, maintaining and disrupting that balance. As centuries passed, the Rabbit God became more and more absent until one day over a hundred years ago it disappeared entirely. The Inari stepped in to protect the people of this land in its place.

The procession moved onto the grounds, forcing Iruka to break from the cover of trees. Every sound he made in the darkness struck him with a fear of being discovery, but the attendants were too engrossed to notice. He ducked behind one of the guardian statues beside the final torii gate. The stone beast kept a snarling watch on the darkness behind him where glowing eyes observed with great anticipation.

The practitioners stopped in one united breath and there was silence for a moment. Then the priests tapped their jingling staffs on the ground, sending out a pulse—a chorus of bells. Iruka's heart pounded with them.

The moon appeared close enough to crush them and there was not a cloud in sight to veil it. The mountaintop glowed under its gaze and the stars blinked in night's blanket. Iruka felt as if they stood at the edge of the world.

His stomach turned and he sought something to ground him. He looked far behind them to the sleeping city that smoldered at the foot of the mountain. The city of Enten was the apex of civilization in their country and yet at such a distance it was nothing more than a dimly lit ember before the roaring power of ancient beings.

The chiming stopped and the world grew still. A small, cautious group brought forth a wooden pedestal holding an offering: a single chestnut burr upon a pure white cloth.

It was time for the Inari Gods' farewell.

"The Inari were born in a much crueler time," his father had told him only days before. "They've been wandering for thousands of years."

His parents were there, kneeling at the front of the procession, as was their duty and honor.

"They're not leaving us, Iruka. This is their chance at a new beginning."

His father's voice now joined with the other priests, in a low and haunting hum. Despite the melding of their chants, Iruka could still distinguish him.

His mother gestured over the offering with a short staff streaming with tails of paper. Her expression was one he had never seen, the gentleness and patience she usually carried had been replaced with that of intense concentration, dabbled with instinctual fear.

"They want to make this their home so they can live in peace."

He remembered how his mother had brushed his hair with those hands, how his father had bid him goodnight with that same voice before leaving him behind when their tale came to an end. "Together, they will become a new land god."

The priests and priestesses chanted anew, their heads bowing as the heavy doors of the shrine creaked open.

Stepping into the moonlight were the Inari. A pair—man and woman. The heavy layers of majestic robes that adorned them floated gently behind as if they were walking through water. The woman's red mane flickered after her like a wild flame. The man's hair was short and golden, lifting gently with each step.

Iruka half expected them to have ears and a tail but, though beautiful, they appeared entirely human. His mother had told him once that the gods, though some of their gifts were truly other-worldly, their effect on a grand scale acted more as a powerful ward. Against plague, against famine. For fortune, for peace.

Unseen by the reverent crowd, the man's blue eyes glistened beneath drooping lids as he cast them onto his wife. Their stoic faces drew into a brief smile. Under the folds of fabric, Iruka saw them take hands. This tender moment was witnessed only by the boy and it passed along the bitter sweetness of what lie ahead.

He remembered his mother saying, "Their spirits will live on in their child. And until the new god has grown, it will be our job to protect it."

The regal pair settled on their knees and the procession came to life once more. They were promptly encircled by the priestesses. Their white kimono and red hakama created a checker pattern on the steps of the shrine.

Iruka could feel the air thicken. His mother's face darkened in response. Her words were still fresh in his mind.

"You'll help us, won't you?"

Out of the darkness, waves of golden light radiated from the couple. The fires of practitioner's torches flared and crackled. Iruka's parents chanted with the rest, holding themselves firm against the pulses as the shrine became a beacon on the mountaintop.

The Inari grew as blinding as the sun, illuminating the forest, until their figures dissolved into the light. Those surrounding shielded their eyes. Iruka hid behind the stone guardian, his heart pounding.

In the shade of the statue, Iruka felt something strange pulling him from the spectacle. He examined the sky.

The stars were gone.

Iruka peered closer to see a black cloud drape across the moon, blotting it out. Something deep within the trees suddenly shifted. A torrent of wind rushed through the brush from all around. Inhuman screams cried out from within the wood, then went quiet. The edges of the forest closed in and Iruka turned to his family.

The light of the Inari quivered. There was a small rattling sound and all turned their eyes to the pedestal that held offering.

The attendants froze, their singing silenced.

The air stilled.

The burr gave one mad shake, clattering sharply—like bones.

Then in a loud crack, the burr spit open.

Like an exposed heart, the seed inside throbbed.

In that instant the light was rapidly drawn in and a wave of darkness engulfed the shrine. Iruka couldn't see his hand in front of him. The only sound left to him was his panting breath. He pushed forward from the stone guardian and into in the emptiness. No ground, no light to guide him.

"Okaa-san?"

In the abyss, the pained shriek of a baby split the air.

Out of the nothingness, the shrine erupted in a whirlwind of fire. Red claws stretched up and tore into the shrine, digging into the earth and sending the attendants flying back.

Black streams slipped in with the flames, taking hold of a man and hoisting him off the ground. It squeezed until Iruka heard snapping. It moved separately of the flames—feeding on the pain and rage. The practitioners rejoined and chanted into the black. The fire tore through them before they could gather strength, blowing them apart.

The blood red light swelled with the wailing of the infant.

Despite the chaos, Iruka ran for his parents.

"Otou-san! Okaa-san!" Fire licked his heels and he stumbled onto the half destroyed stairs of the shrine.

His parents and a few others had escaped inside and were chanting over the offering. It had enveloped them in an orb of white. The black was slinking on the floor around them, seeking an opening. The blasts from the fire thrashed at them like a storm against stone, but as one of the priestesses came just out of the light's reach, the black smoke ripped her away from the others. The woman was helplessly thrown into the rampant blaze that consumed the interior of the shrine.

Iruka cowered back in horror as the flare of fire that followed the black stream's movements knocked him back, searing his skin. He cried out.

The blanched faces of his parents turned to his voice.

"Iruka!" His father dove from safety and shielded Iruka as another burst hit. The agonizing sound that wheezed from his father sent a shudder through the boy. They crumpled on the floor together and the grown man smothered his child beneath his weight.

The last priest beside Iruka's mother couldn't react fast enough when she impulsively snatched the seed from its pedestal and ran for her family. He shot a hand after her, but it was too late. As soon as he was outside of the light, the black swept him away into the flames.

Iruka's mother fell onto them, encasing them in the seed's shelter. The black tendrils danced out of reach, too afraid to touch the barrier.

She cradled her husband and son, pulling them close into the protective circle. Her husband's eyes were glazed in pain. She saw his charred back and tears cut through the ash on her cheeks. She looked back for the two lives she had sacrificed, but there was no sign of them in the flames. She shook her head fervently as words poured out without control, "I had to—I'm sorry. I had to." She gripped her family with all her might, tightening up her shaking body and suffocating her guilt. She cupped her husband's face, patting it gently, "Look at me, Ikkaku. Look at me!" His eyes rolled into focus. She stroked his cheek, "I'm here. Stay with me."

The white shrank as fire beat against it in another wave.

Iruka shook with his sobs, "Otou-san, I-I'm so sorry."

A support beam broke free from the roof, smashing open the floor with its fall.

His father's voice came in pieces, "You have to help—the land god, Kohari."

She shook her head, looking back for the two dead attendants, at the seed in her hand, then at her debilitated husband. She buried her head in his shoulder. "Please, no…"

The wood above groaned loudly.

With the last of his strength, his father wrenched from their grasp and pushed himself out of the light, "GO!"

She tore Iruka away as the roof fell. Iruka shut his eyes to the flying cinders and held on tightly to his mother's robes.

The entrance to the shrine was shut. His father was gone under the debris.

Staggering with loss, his mother pulled Iruka away. He coughed violently as the smoke around them thickened and his mother pulled the torched sleeve of her kimono over his mouth. She led them to the center of the torrent and pressed against the battering waves of heat with the seed out in front.

The baby lay ahead, choking and trembling in its cry.

"Iruka, wait!"

The world fell away as Iruka broke from his mother and reached without hesitation to nestle the baby in his small arms. Its hair was like its fathers, soft and golden. Its little body was heavy and warm. It reached out with its small, desperate hands and clung to Iruka.

Its eyes turned to him, as blue as the clear summer sky.

His mother caught up to them and as soon as the white light touched the baby, the black wisps were blown away in a blinding shockwave. The course of wind fanned the burning wood and for a moment the crimson embers that had consumed the shrine were exposed. The dark presence was gone, and the violent life left the flames. For a moment, they stared at the baby in awe. Iruka's mother fell to her knees. She held the children close, muttering prayers and blessings, and the infant released into exhausted sleep.

The fanned fire burned bright once more, consuming the temple entirely.

Coming to her senses, Iruka's mother pulled him along, searching desperately for a way out.

The stoked fires burned bright once more, consuming the temple entirely. Smoke filled Iruka's lungs, bringing on a fit of coughs.

Iruka saw a dark opening and started to move. "There! Okaa-san!"

His mother yanked him back as another pillar toppled ahead of them and destroyed more of the floor. Suddenly they were trapping on an island of weak planks. Iruka stared into the sea of fire below and the plumes of smoke gathering above. The wood of the shrine croaked and threatened to collapse.

Panic threatened to undo him, but his mother's touch brought him back. She held his face, turning him to see her.

"Iruka." Her tear filled eyes were resolute. "I'm sorry, sweetie."

He felt the building lean into its final collapse. It would swallow them all.

His mother unclenched her fist. The seed, free of its shell, throbbed in her palm. She kissed Iruka's head and held her lips there.

"Iruka, I love you." Her words a prayer, "Please live."

She grabbed the back of his neck and shoved the seed into his mouth and down his throat.

The building folded.

* * *

The temple he opened his eyes to was cold. Quiet. The room was dark and empty. Morning had not yet come. The paneled walls were open, creating a black frame around the mountain landscape outside. From here he could see the trees budding with new green leaves. Down the folding slopes of the valley rolled a lethargic fog, waiting to be blown away by the rising sun. Calm and slow.

He realized he was panting.

Iruka pulled his kimono tightly closed around him and reclaimed his breath. His chest felt tight—fresh with the dream. He stared at the scenery and reminded himself it was a different mountain. A different temple.

After so many years free from that city and that endless burning night, something unknown to him had given those memories a new power. They weren't just dreams or flashbacks like those that had followed him as a child. They were very real. A reliving. They flooded his sleep and left him reeling and restless in the waking world.

Iruka's life had gained a kind of certainty. Over thirty years, he had polished a peacefully patterned day to day. Only in the last few months had things begun to shift in a way he could not explain—all starting with the nightmares.

Out of the wooden walls and toward the forest, Iruka stared at the other new addition to his morning routine.

Hiding in the grass at the edge of the wood was a small cluster of crows. They were watching him, or so he thought.

He was rightfully unnerved the first time he noticed them. He tried shutting the door while he slept, but woke to the sounds of pecking. He was almost positive it was a combination of coincidence and paranoia, but in the end he decided to leave the door to the outside open and give his strange watchmen a clear view.

He rolled up from the futon and stood on the tatami. He folded his bedding and dressed for the day. When he looked for the birds again, they were gone—as if they had been reassured that there were no changes from the day before.

Someone would soon summon him for breakfast. His day would go on, just as it always did, and the dream would fizzle out into what it truly was. An old scar. Nothing for a grown man or a bunch of birds to fear.

The monks had been up for a few hours by now. The murmur of their prayers had already come and gone. He could almost hear the gentle thumping of the apprentices' feet as they cleaned the temple and alter room. When he was young, he was right alongside them wiping the floors and preparing meals for the monks.

Sure enough, when he entered the hall, he nearly collided with a bustling young man in his formal black attire.

"Good morning, Shishou." He gave a small apologetic bow, "I was just coming to get you."

"Please call me Iruka, Zenza-san. I'm not your teacher anymore." Iruka held in a yawn, "And good morning."

He blinked, taking in Iruka's worn expression. "You look exhausted. Are you still not sleeping?" Despite his old student's bluntness, Iruka knew Zenza meant well.

Iruka waved him off, "I've been like this for weeks. I'm just getting old, is all."

"Chiriku-sama is worried about you."

Iruka lifted a curious brow. "I sincerely doubt it." He led Zenza down the hall. "If anything, I'd say he's been avoiding me."

They stepped outdoors and greeted a few trainees heading in for breakfast.

Outside the main worship hall there were two towering iron lanterns, engraved with intricate design and green with age. A red railing lined the stone landing, barring the encroaching trees. The forest glowed with a soft green in the morning light. The trees had only just finished blooming and their branches were now budded with small leaves. The last of their fallen blossoms littered the temple grounds.

The quiet that greeted them would not last long. Soon the disciples would be scurrying about, doing their chores and attending to the many small shrines and winding paths that sprawled across their mountain. Soon the place would be spotless.

There was a time when a jolt of panic would run through Iruka at the untidy sight, but these days the groggy, messy temple was very endearing. Especially since it was no longer his job to keep it clean.

They walked across the courtyard and into a building that held a few offices, the kitchen, and the dining hall.

There were four monks and a handful of trainees living on the temple grounds currently aside from Iruka. Zenza had only recently become fully ordained. Until a few months ago he had been stopping in as a student at the terakoya—the school on the slope just off the temple grounds that Iruka ran for the village children. Since his promotion, Zenza had been too busy adjusting to his new duties to stop in and it wasn't likely he would return. Iruka couldn't say he missed having the young and chittery monk in his classroom.

Iruka had known the other three monks since he first came to the temple as a child. When Iruka and Zenza entered the modest dining hall, they were seated in their usual spots with their food laid out.

Chiriku, the current head of the temple, sat in the middle of the group. He was a man of few words outside of repeating his sutras or holding necessary conversation while making visits to the temple's supporters. He was known by the cemented crease in his brow that cast a threatening shadow over his eyes. While he was generally very stoic, the monk held a temper that the students ardently avoided provoking. At Chiriku's left was the previous head, Bansai—a white bearded elderly man who counted his prayer beads near constantly as he internally wished for the wellbeing of anyone who crossed his path. On Chiriku's other side was Sentoki. He had a large scar along the side of his head and donned a serious expression to match it. He was Iruka's closest peer in age and a long-time friend. Seeing the three of them sitting like saintly statues, very few would believe that Chiriku and Sentoki ran amok with Iruka in their youth, stirring up trouble for the old monk Bansai to yell after.

The students sat in two rows down the length of the room eating quietly. Some of them were still dragging along from just waking. Most of those present came from other temples for temporary study on Mt. Kurama. The number of children in town had dwindled in recent years. Most families were moving to the larger cities, leaving behind a predominantly elderly community.

Regardless of the numbers, those three men at the head were Iruka's constant. For almost thirty years, Iruka lived under their care. He rose with them, dined with them, and called them his family. For thirty years.

When Iruka came into the room on this particular morning, the three were leaning in toward one another. Bansai clutched his beads close to his furrowed forehead in deep thought. The two younger men were muttering keenly in clear debate. The instant Iruka turned the corner the monk's talk came to an abrupt halt. Chiriku, who was usually so composed, was shaking with an alarmed, knowing expression. Sentoki, who had his hand on the man's shoulder, sat apart and looked down at his food without a word of greeting for Iruka or Zenza. Only Bansai continued as usual.

His old eyes crinkled and he gave a heartening smile. He continued to cycle the beads through his fingers as he normally would and took up his teacup with the other. "Good morning, Iruka-san. Zenza-kun. I hope you both slept well. It's a little cold this morning, isn't it?"

Zenza, the sweet man, seemed to notice nothing odd. "We better enjoy it while we can. I'm sure this summer will be a warm one." He sat down without hesitation and began eating.

Iruka had undoubtedly seen these three men in a similar state before. When something particularly troubling had happened. When someone had been harmed in the fire festival, or when a child went missing in the mountains. But there was something in the way Chiriku avoided Iruka's eye he could not ignore. Aware of this himself, Chiriku was up and out the door before Iruka could take another step. Sentoki followed, his food left untouched. They brushed past without a word.

It took everything in Iruka not to storm after them and demand an explanation.

"Iruka-san."

Hearing his name, he was pulled from his thoughts. Iruka met Bansai's peaceful gaze. He gestured for Iruka, who had frozen in the doorway, to join them.

He ate in a daze, tasting nothing. Holding himself in his seat. Zenza carried on cheerfully about the changing weather, the departing blossoms, and other light topics without being dimmed by Iruka's numbed responses.

Eventually, the old man addressed him, "Class should be starting soon, yes?" Bansai took his last sip of tea, sat down his cup, then continued as if Iruka had answered him. "When you're done with the morning session, meet me in town if you could. I have a few things I need to pick up and I could use some help."

Zenza responded enthusiastically, "I can assist you, Obou-sama. I don't mind."

Bansai gathered Chiriku and Sentoki's abandoned dishes as well as his own on a tray. One of the students saw this and leapt up to take the task from him. Whether the students were as acutely aware of what had transpired this morning, it was clear they would be too timid to reveal any reason behind it.

As the young man took the tray, Basai addressed Iruka, "How long has it been since you came down from the mountain?" The steadiness of his eye made Iruka's stomach turn.

Iruka smiled weakly, "Too long, I'd say."

The old man moved at a ginger pace to the door, "Wait for me at the dango shop. It'll be my treat."

Zenza called after Bansai as he departed. "Why does no one buy for me while we're out?!"

Iruka stood, more eager than ever for the day to pass, and teased the oblivious young man, "When you show me you can use an abacus properly, I'll be happy to treat you."

Zenza groaned and trailed him, "Shishou, that's not fair!"

Iruka stepped outside and to the stone stairs that were marked by small red lanterns on posts.

Just when he reached them, an alarmed catch in his chest made Iruka stop.

He spotted movement in the woods and a crow took flight from its perch. For an instant, he was sure it had a red face.

Iruka steadied his heart with an exhausted sigh.

Would they be watching him in the daytime now? He didn't have the patience to deal with both the monks and the crows.

"Did you see that?" Zenza tugged at Iruka's sleeve. "Was that a tengu?"

Zenza's wide eyes trailed it as if it would sprout legs and arms at any moment. When it was out of sight, Zenza turned that intensity on Iruka.

Again he asked, "Was it?"

Iruka shrugged and started walking again, "Who knows. It's their mountain after all."

The edge of the temple grounds dropped off into stone stairs with red railing that would guide them to the lower landing where his school stood.

Zenza wasn't satisfied with Iruka's dismissal and yammered behind him as they wound back and forth in their descent. "Bansai-sama says they come out when an evil spirit sets foot in the valley."

"Bansai-sama would know, being a tengu himself." He almost burst out laughing when Zenza tripped in shock. "You're not from around here, so I guess you wouldn't know that."

Zenza shook his head hard enough to wiggle his ears.

It wasn't very often that Iruka got to spread his favorite childhood rumor.

"Bansai-sama is the younger brother of Soujoubou-sama."

Zenza sputtered, "Soujoubou-sama!?"

Iruka held back a smile, "He's the master of the tengu that lives deep in the forest at the mountain peak." Iruka absently pointed up and behind him. "Bansai-sama forgot how to change back into a crow, so he decided to stay with us at the temple."

Iruka drowned out the slew of questions that followed from Zenza as they came to level ground. The cobble stone landing was a small pool compared to the temple above, but it was large enough to host one tired old building that butted up to the cliff's edge.

Iruka's terakoya school was once a small storage house. The wood was stained with time. The original color had drained to leave the building looking very gray. The slated roof had missing tiles here and there that caused leaks on rainy days. The small closet within had a stack of old dishes and buckets for such occasions.

Long before he considered the temple his home, this building had been a safe haven for Iruka. He knew its ins and outs like the back of his hand. When he reflected on his own reckless years within, he couldn't help but smile.

Chiriku and Sentoki were set on the monk's path early on, and were very serious students. They were the closest to his age, but Iruka barely spoke to them when he first came to live at the temple. It was the arrival of a boy from Enten changed all that.

The boy, a few years their elder, came from the booming city to study and have a taste of the modest Kurama-dera life. Nobles' children were known to do so at their parent's insistence. Iruka didn't know it at the time, but the boy was the honorable son of the Daimyo. As a result, the residents of the mountain pampered him.

To Iruka, he was just another kid who felt isolated by his own circumstances.

To Iruka, he was just Asuma.

The plopping of sandals on stone brought Iruka back. At the edge of the landing, another set of stairs led down the mountain. On its steps Iruka spotted some bobbing heads rushing up to meet them.

The students greeted Iruka in passing, determined to beat him inside the school. "Morning, Shishou!" "Good morning!"

He waved in response. "Good morning! I'll be right in."

Iruka thought Zenza had left already, but the monk was still there beside him going on about the tengu. "I wonder if they know. Should I ask Bansai-sama about it?"

Iruka sighed patiently, "About what?"

"About the evil spirit!"

Iruka walked up the steps and, like a duckling, Zenza padded along after him.

"You know, I've seen Bansai-sama's face get really red before. Do you think he still tries to transform every once in a while?"

Iruka pushed open the door to his school and slowly turned.

Upon seeing Iruka's amused face it finally dawned on Zenza. "Bansai-sama… Is he really…?"

Iruka gave a cheeky grin.

Zenza opened and closed his mouth, saying nothing. Then he pointed a critical finger at Iruka. "That was not very Buddhist of you, Shishou."

"Well then," Iruka took a step through the door, "It's a good thing I'm not a monk." He presented the interior to Zenza, inviting him inside. "Are you coming to class today, Obou-san?"

"No—I'm—… Excuse me," Zenza sputtered and clopped away while bowing. "Have a good day, Shishou! I'll see you at dinner."

Finally free of the young monk, Iruka attended to his students. The girls and boys ranged in ages and levels of proficiency so organizing their classes wasn't the easiest task, but it wasn't like Iruka had anything better to do than perfect lesson plans in his spare time. No one was too young or too old to learn. He had a few adults come in for evening classes to improve their literacy. They studied calculations, writing, reading, music, history—anything that sparked the student's interest or helped them in their vocations.

His path to becoming a teacher had been unexpected, to say the least. He had been a horrible student. Late to class. Loud. Disrespectful. It wasn't until Asuma came to Mt. Kurama to wrangle him that Iruka managed to make any friends at all.

Despite being in a landlocked town, Asuma made the world feel wide open. He told Iruka stories of Enten, about all the drama and gossip. The noble lady that fell in love with a poor merchant. The rebellious child that inherited their family's fortune. The gods that masqueraded as humans.

They became fast friends. Most of the students weren't as keen, but Sentoki was pulled in instantly. It took some persuading, but eventually even the studious Chiriku to join in on their pranks and adventures. The four ran around entertaining themselves as only bored kids on a mountain could. They made up epic dramas, and spied on the lives of the town's inhabitants. They got in and out of trouble together, usually while running from the red-faced old tengu, Bansai.

Crammed in that school, alongside his new found friends, Iruka regained a sense of belonging.

As they grew however, the division in their paths became more imminent. Chiriku and Sentoki left the terakoya to study exclusively at the temple. The nature of Iruka's friendship with the future monks was forced to change. Chiriku took over Bansai's position and reinforced his more naturally disciplined attitude. There wasn't room for Iruka and Asuma there. As the Daimyo called upon his son to visit him in Enten with more frequency, Iruka only saw Asuma for a few months at a time.

The life of a monk had never sounded satisfying to Iruka. Nor did the farm life that awaited him in the town below. No set occupation of his own, Iruka was left mostly alone.

Around that time, their first instructor—a woman from a samurai family—retired. One of the visiting monks took over, but it was hardly the same. As one of the older students, Iruka felt responsible to keep the school alive in his friend's absence. He became more of a teaching assistant than a pupil to the point that Bansai suggested he take over the school entirely. No longer a child, but barely a man, Iruka hardly felt qualified.

In the end it was Asuma who encouraged him.

Iruka was grateful, honestly, to have something to tether him to Mt. Kurama. It gave him purpose in the absence of his friends and before long became more than just a way to pass the time—in more ways than he could have imagined.

On a fateful day a few years into his teaching, a bizarre student appeared in Iruka's classroom.

Sitting in the front row was a young boy with bright blonde hair and piercing blue eyes.

Until that moment, Iruka had nearly forgotten the child that came with him to the mountain. The child of the Inari.

There had been a great fear that the land god would lose control again and threaten the heavily populated city of Enten if he stayed there. The monks at Kurama-dera deemed powerful enough to contain him. The Inari Shrine believed Bansai and his temple would be able to keep the land god's power in check until he gained control of his human form.

So, within a small shrine just up the mountain from the main temple, the child of the Inari was contained and raised out of the public eye. Revered as a god and feared as a monster.

When Iruka was brought to Mt. Kurama, not many questioned it. From time to time a child would wander in from the forest, their family dead or lost. It wasn't unheard of. It was easier for the villagers to believe a story like that than the truth.

In time, Iruka had almost come to believe it too.

When the small boy appeared in his class, Iruka remembered the harsher truth. In the brazen and wild boy that tore his classroom apart and invoked his frustrated rage, Iruka saw himself.

A lonely child who had been robbed of a family's love.

Iruka wondered if Asuma had done it on purpose—bring Iruka and the Inari's child together in this way.

If so, Iruka couldn't help but feel a tinge of bitterness.

His afternoon class ended without incident, though he couldn't say it was a very productive one. Some of the children ran out the door to the stone stairs while others waited for Iruka to finish tidying the classroom. The walk down the mountain would take close to an hour at the children's pace, but Iruka didn't mind. It gave him more time to prepare for whatever Bansai wanted to discuss with him.

The sun had risen, but the steep decline of the mountain kept them mostly in shade. The distinct red railing and lanterns started to disappear as they moved further from the temple. The path carved through the trees until they came upon a large chu-mon gate around the next turn. The tall wooden doors of the gate were always open and the sweeping roof often served as reliable shelter from the rain. The children scampered through and down the last of the stone steps before their path became a dirt road.

With the railing gone, the only thing barring the children from falling down the cliff was the dense line of trees. From the heightened path Iruka could see what waited below. There was a small bridge over a crevice in the cliffs and a small collection of tombstones.

One of the children gasped, stopping their advance.

In a harsh whisper one girl said, "There!"

The group cautiously looked down from the edge of the road.

Something small and bright, no bigger than Iruka's hand, floated from a tombstones to hide under a leafy bush close to the cliff.

As soon as it was gone, the children skittered around like birds, "Did you see it?" "I saw, I saw!" "What was it?"

Iruka put his heavy hand on one of their heads, reminding them of his presence and muting their excitement.

"It's a sprite. A little spirit."

He encouraged them to softly follow.

They came to the level ground and onto cobble stones again. This paving was not as well cared for as the temple grounds. Moss grew in the creases. A sound of water came from below the bridge. They crossed it toward the tombstones, but there was no sprite in sight.

A few of them began to groan in disappointment, but Iruka shushed them.

They rounded the corner and descended another narrow set of stairs to see the stone spigot coming out of the crevice beneath the bridge. From it poured a thin waterfall.

Winding around the splashing water on a stone below was the sprite, misty green like warm sunlight passing through a leaf. It was the kind of spirit that only emerged on land undisturbed by the clamor of civilization.

Iruka watched the children. A few of his students were locked on it and followed its every move. The rest searched helplessly, reacting to every rustle and splatter of water. Not all of them could see it. Even with diligent training, it was a gift to be able to spy on a spirit when it didn't want to be noticed.

Iruka was once like them, franticly searching for whatever mystical creature the other children had managed to spot. It was only recently that he had started to see the more mysterious and mythical sides of the mountain.

The sprite danced excitedly with the water. Iruka encouraged the students to crouch down. It noticed them and Iruka feared it would disappear. Instead it floated from the water and drifted over a tombstone in their direction.

It seemed curious about their little group and Iruka could tell it became visible to the rest of the children. They quieted immediately, hunkering down around him.

Iruka had never seen one so close before. It rippled like fabric in the wind, thin and light.

He impulsively lifted his hand, stretching it toward the spirit. The soft green thing was intrigued. Its little tendrils reached for Iruka.

Iruka could feel its warmth being pulled in by his fingertips and his heart thudded loudly in his ribcage.

As if it felt it too, the sprite disappeared in a flash of light.

The warmth lingered in his fingers and the students all stared in wonder.

A little frazzled, it took Iruka a moment to regain his composure. When he did he said, "There's a lot of them out this time of year. If you stay very quiet you'll see them. And maybe if you're very, very quiet, they'll come and say hello." The children giggled. In the afterglow of their encounter, they listened intently. "They help the plants and flowers grow. They like to be where it's a little cool, in the shade or by a stream."

There was a loud and long creak that made them jump and clutter together. The trees stretched in the breeze, recreating the sound. The jittery bunch released into echoing laughter.

The rest of the walk was rather peaceful. To the children every bird and every shadow was a sprite. They listened for every drop of water and snapping of twigs. It was delightfully quiet. Iruka regretted not telling this generation of students about the sprites sooner.

When they reached the main entrance, they found themselves on a paved road with red railing once more. A large red gate waited for them, accompanied by a modest stone fountain.

Once they were through the gate, the magic was dispelled. The students rushed off to enjoy their time before evening class.

From his view on the hill, he could see the whole town from end to end. Bansai, Zenza, and Sentoki were likely making their rounds, honoring the dead and saying prayers over alters the families kept within their homes. The village was getting older and older. Fewer children, fewer monks. But Iruka had confidence the people would return. Their hot springs were legendary, especially in winter. And the fire festival they held every fall, though Iruka never really enjoyed it, was an unofficial rite of passage for young visitors from all over the country. Anyone who visited knew there was something special about the mountain. There would always be a draw, keeping this one-street town afloat.

Iruka passed the establishments and houses until he came to the dango shop. He was surprised Bansai hadn't beat him there and took a seat on the bench just outside the store's navy noren curtains. A few of his students were just leaving with their dango. They bowed their heads sheepishly to him and scampered off. How many times had he snuck out of the temple to get a treat here in his youth? More often than not ending in a harsh lecture.

He had once given the young land god similar scoldings in the past, but Iruka's fire had considerably dimmed recently. Maybe he was getting soft with age.

He couldn't help but feel like his time in the town was coming to an end. Perhaps the monks were finally tired of housing him and that's what they had been deliberating for the last few weeks. Bansai would be the most reasonable person to ask Iruka to leave. No one could say no to Bansai.

Iruka heard a scuffle across the street.

One of the shop owners was angrily sweeping a broom. It took Iruka a moment to realize it was an animal that the bloated man was batting at. A shaggy stray dog. Its paws were caked with mud and its fur was matted. The growl in its throat was desperate and fearful.

He hadn't seen a mountain dog like that in a long time. Let alone in town begging for scraps. Something must have scared it out of the woods.

The owner wacked it hard on the back, making the dog yelp.

Iruka rose to his feet and shouted, "Hey!"

The plum-faced man turned to him, startled.

The stray took the chance to snag a bit of food. Before the shop owner could hit it again, the dog shot out of reach—its goal achieved. The man hollered after it, waving the broom in the air for a moment before giving up with a grumble.

The dog escaped nimbly in the gap between the buildings where one could see the greenery of the forest peeking through. But just before it stepped out of the shadow toward the trees, it stopped. It turned back while chewing on its spoils and stared at Iruka with its good eye.

A smile snuck up on Iruka and he gave a small wave to the beast.

It lifted its head, curious, and its tail gave a single wag. Then it bolted into the trees.

"Did you make a new friend?" Someone surprised Iruka by coming into his view.

There stood Bansai in his formal monk robes and wearing a round sedge hat to shield him from the sun. Iruka blinked in confusion until the old man noted the shop owner that was glaring pointedly at Iruka.

Iruka rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed, and bowed in the man's direction. He muttered to Bansai, "I don't think so."

Bansai ordered them tea and dango, then invited Iruka to sit once more on the bench.

He gave Iruka a knowing look, "This place hasn't changed since you were young."

Iruka returned with an apologetic laugh, "Not a bit."

The server brought out their tea and the old man took his cup while saying, "You were always the first of those boys to make a fool out of yourself. So noisy." Iruka cringed and Bansai chuckled. He handed Iruka his cup and added gently, "You were such an honest child then. I wonder what's changed."

Iruka replied humbly, "I'd like to think I've grown up some."

"Of course you have. You've become an excellent teacher. I know Ikkaku-san and Kohari-san would be proud."

At the mention of their names, Iruka's stomach sank. He rubbed the rim of his cup with his thumb making the tea ripple.

Bansai's tone cooled into something more solemn, "We don't hear your voice much anymore, Iruka-san. I wonder if you truly feel at home here."

That was a line of thought Iruka had not entertained in a long time. He would be lying of he said recent events hadn't encouraged him to think of a future outside of the temple. If there was one to be found.

Iruka awkwardly stared at his cup. "I'm not sure what you mean."

"It's been a long time since Asuma-san and the land god left, hasn't it?"

His thumb stopped. The water stilled.

"I'm sure you wanted to leave with them."

Iruka's reply was instant. "I did." It startled them both. He quickly clarified, "But I'm too old to regret that now."

It was his own fault for reminiscing about the past for so long that morning. His thoughts were still muddied. He didn't want Bansai to think he was unhappy with his current circumstances. The land god and Asuma's departure had been inevitable and he had accepted that. If anything, he was a little resentful toward Asuma for bringing the unruly student into Iruka's life, only to take him away again.

The server came with their dango and the interaction gave Iruka a chance to recover.

He allowed a different memory to take the forefront and distract himself.

"Asuma and Kurenai-san met at this shop, do you remember? At the fire festival." Every other woman that discovered Asuma was the Daimyo's son either trailed after him blindly or avoided him entirely. Kurenai, however, was the daughter of a samurai, and held no stock in men who used their status to get their way. "She came all the way from Enten just for the festival. Asuma and Chiriku were showing off, swinging their torches around, and they caught the curtains on fire." He laughed at the memory of Chiriku's rebellious stage. It hadn't lasted long, but it had been very destructive. "Kurenai came outside with her dango in one hand, and knocked Asuma hard enough to send him flying with the other." He trailed off, "The rest is history."

Bansai only nodded, humoring him. His next words were very quiet. "I'm sorry we didn't let you go with them, Iruka-san. I wish we had."

Iruka shook his head. "I understood."

All they held in common between them existed within Kurama-dera. Outside of that what reason did a humbly raised teacher and the son of the Daimyo have to be friends? He had learned that when his closeness with Chiriku and Sentoki dissolved. The same was true with the Inari's child. Tragic circumstances tied them together. The fondness that developed while watching the boy grow was not a strong enough justification for Iruka to follow after the land god when it was time for him to return to the Inari Shrine. He had no right.

"No," the old man said firmly. "Despite what Chiriku-sama and I had thought, you're no safer here than you would be in Enten."

Iruka was caught in the all-knowing gaze coming from under Bansai's bushy white brows and a chill shot up his back.

Bansai saw that and leaned away. As if wishing to dispel the tension, he rambled without any apparent aim.

"I hear there have been strange spirits wandering around the temple." The old man took the stick of dango and rolled it back and forth in his fingers, making them spin slowly. "The spirits… gods, demons… they draw good and bad fortune alike. Whether they are good or evil by nature—trouble follows them." His gaze sank with his thoughts as he formed them. "There are people like that too, I think."

As the old monk spoke, Iruka's pulse started to race. He didn't understand why, but he was nervous. As if he could feel the hammer starting to fall.

Just as Bansai finished, the clamor of children erupted in the street. A group of them ran past and rushed toward the main gate of the temple.

Relieved by their presence, Iruka started to stand.

"I should head back," Iruka said.

Bansai caught him by the arm. "Sit down, Iruka-san. Don't worry about the students."

A rumble of panic returned and he obeyed. He lowered onto the bench.

Bansai's grip on Iruka's arm only tightened, forcing Iruka to look him in the eye.

As Bansai's mouth formed the words, Iruka's blood went cold. A hollow feeling swept through him and carved him out too thin. He knew he would shatter if he let even his expression shift.

"Asuma-san is dead."

Rigid, the world span around him with increasing noise. The sounds of life grew from a murmur until they were shouting at him. The talking neighbors, the laughing children, feet on the path, dishes clinking. Bansai's voice became muffled. Rather than hearing the words, Iruka felt them reverberate and clatter in his shell.

"It happened a few weeks ago. The new just reached us." Bansai's touch ghosted away. Sadness tightened the old man's voice. "He was sick for a long time. We thought he would recover, but…"

Without feeling it, a voice asked, "He was sick…?"

The silence dragged on for an eternity.

He imagined it. Asuma lying in Enten, surrounded by his friends and family. His face would be drawn in a smile—laughing despite himself. Why wasn't Iruka there? Why wasn't he there with Asuma?

How long had he been sick? He was dead? How was that even possible?

When there was no response to his flurry of thoughts, Iruka lifted his head. The old man was clenching fists in his lap. At a loss. Guilty.

Iruka's voice came out low and hoarse, "You knew?"

The shell was cracking.

He asked again, struggling to keep a level tone. "Did you know?"

In a breath, the old man's demeanor changed. No longer remorseful, but painfully kind. Full of pity.

He stared into Iruka's eyes in admittance. "We did."

Iruka shook his head slowly. We. We did.

Each syllable was a labor. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"We thought he would be alright. We didn't want to worry you." As if the monk were speaking to a child.

Rage flooded in to fill the sorrowful emptiness. It swelled. It wanted Iruka to leap up and strike the old man. Curse him. Scream. Iruka dug his fingers into his knees, trying to hold onto that feeling, but the heat drained through the cracks as quickly as it came, sinking him lower than before. Leaving him utterly unsatisfied. Weak. It took everything in him to stay upright.

The tears seeped out, but he didn't notice. "Why didn't you tell me?" His voice came and went like a far off dream. "I would have gone to see him. If I'd known he was sick. I would have…"

Bansai wrapped his arm around the man and pulled him into his shoulder. "I'm so sorry, son. I'm sorry."

The arm around him and the bench below were miles away.

The vacant, one-street town buried in the mountain valley was unmoved.

In a forest where the sun barely held its glint, where everything was destined to be swallowed and erased, a man mourned and wept.

Unheard and unseen.

* * *

When time returned to him, Bansai got him to his feet. He helped Iruka up the street, out of the public eye, and to the mountain path.

When they reached the stairs, Iruka brushed off the old man's arm.

"Go on." Iruka had regained some semblance of himself. He smiled at his friend. "I'll be behind you."

The old man, unable to argue, walked up a few steps and stopped. He looked down at Iruka in his heavy monk garb. The guilt returned to his bearing.

"I'm fine. I just want to be alone." Iruka rubbed under his dry eye, as if to prove it.

The old man nodded reluctantly and went ahead.

Iruka waited until the man was out of sight to sit on the step. His head sank into his hands.

Every stone, every tree brought him back to Asuma.

The tears threatened to return and he struggled to usher the memories away. It would take time, he told himself. Time, for the memories to fade and become pleasant once more, for the empty feeling to recover. To scar. He knew this. For now, all he could do was wait.

He forced his thoughts to drift. What would he teach in class the next day? A part of him wanted to throw out the lesson and take the children on a walk through the mountain, like he had always wanted to do as a student. He could teach them about the different plants and animals they saw. Or nothing at all. He wanted to see them play and get along. Like siblings, raised side by side on the mountain.

An impulse struck him and he stood.

He peered into the darkening wood. There was still enough light. He could find his way back.

Iruka's footing was shaky as he stepped off the path and into the trees.

He didn't want to go far. He only wanted to be alone. His pace quickened. He told himself, by the time you come back to the path, you'll be just fine. Fine enough to face them. The students. The monks.

Before he knew it, he was running.

When was the last time he ran? Considering how ragged his breathing was already, it had been too long. He almost tripped on a root and laughed out loud at himself. His voice echoed in his solitude.

They had never been allowed to drift too far from the temple, yet Asuma always found a way to get them out. To bend the rules.

That was what he wanted for his students. He wanted them to be wild and loud together. To cause trouble, to explore. While they could. While they had time. He wanted to hear their dreams and stories, their ambitions. How they'd travel to far off places. How they'd surpass the future of their parents and what plan the town had in store for them.

How many times had he dreamed of visiting Asuma and the land god after they left? He had always come up with some reason to stay. Why? How many days it had been since Asuma passed? Maybe he could travel to Enten for the funeral. Pay his respects. Say a proper goodbye.

He couldn't change the past, but he could at least do that.

Iruka's vision blurred and he stumbled. He fell to the forest floor and didn't rise again.

He could at least say goodbye.

He buckled into the ground. He gripped the grass and his tears fell free, the trees his only witness.

He allowed himself to be shaken apart.

In time, he told himself, it will pass.

In time.

The branches around him rustled with the wind and he became aware of himself again. He held his chest, focusing on his breathing and urging his heart to settle down.

Iruka wondered if his students were still waiting for him in the terakoya, or if they had given up on him and gone home. Maybe someone from the temple had told them class was canceled.

He fell back into the trunk of a tree and slumped into the dirt.

It was then he spotted a shadow moving in the woods ahead of him. He jumped in shock, but quickly realized it wasn't an animal.

It was a person, he was sure. An old woman with long white hair.

Iruka wiped his cheeks and called to her, "Hello?"

Her head jerked his way, but he couldn't quite see. She reached in Iruka's direction. He thought it was a hand at first, but it was too long and thin. A walking stick, perhaps. She started moving his way with strange, blind steps.

He was about to call to her again when there was another sound from the tree ahead of him.

He gazed up into the stare of a single crow.

There it perched on a low branch, sitting perfectly still.

There was more rustling in the branches above him, a sound he had at first attributed to the breeze passing though.

His whole body shivered and his head dropped back, eyes wide. The tree above him was filled with crows. Watching him.

He pressed his back into the trunk, gripping the bark. A few of them ruffled their feathers in anticipation. Iruka pulled his feet under him as slowly as he could and dug his heels into the ground in preparation to push off.

He peered at the old woman again, ready to yell a warning to her. She was much closer, but still too obscured for him to make out her face from the curtain of spindly white hair.

The lone crow in the tree ahead of him made a graveled sound, drawing his attention. It flapped its wings as if to take off and the other birds stopped fidgeting.

There was stillness for only an instant before it released a terrifying caw, jutting out its head with the chilling cry.

The birds around Iruka erupted into flight and sound.

Too petrified to yell to the woman, he bolted from the base of the tree. He was batted with the fluttering wings, and scratched at with their talons. Their screeches were all around him at first, but gradually they drew back to flank him. When he started to veer too far in one direction, they corralled him on a narrow path, driving him up the edges of cliffs yet never to a dead end.

He dared to look back when he was on level ground and caught a glimpse of the old woman. She was being attacked, that much was clear. Her white hair flew about her as she swung at the birds with what looked like two long, leafless branches.

A crow dove for his exposed face and Iruka protected himself. Too afraid to glance again, he tucked his head down and ran for what felt like an eternity, desperate to keep his feet under him. The crows eventually grew more distant, just squawking and fluttering at the edge of his periphery.

At first he thought he was imagining it, but there was light ahead. The light grew closer and he knew for certain he had returned to the path.

As soon as he realized that the cawing stopped, but he did not slow. He ran the last stretch accompanied only by his panicked breathing.

Iruka broke out of the trees and onto cobble stone.

There stood his school.

Hit with relief, he fell to the ground clenching his chest and struggling to catch his breath. He rested his forehead on the cold stone until the adrenaline pumping through him faded.

Fearfully he looked back at the edge of the wood. He expected to see the crows' shining black eyes, but they were gone.

Cautiously he stood and walked back to the edge of the landing. It was nearly dusk and the forest was almost entirely dark. He saw no hint of wings. No old woman. Nothing. Just trees.

He checked his arms and felt his neck, but there were no scratches. No talon marks to be found. No feathers. Just the dirt on his knees. He felt as if he had imagined the whole thing.

Hardly reassured, he turned back to his school.

The windows were unlit. The students were long gone. Without them, it was just a ratty old shack. Unimpressive and small.

He approached it, walking back into reality, and placed his hand on the wood of the door. He sagged against it and shut his eyes. He could almost hear Asuma's voice. Pressuring Iruka to sneaking out during self-study. Congratulating him when he became a teacher.

To Iruka, that little building was the most precious place in the world.

And he never wanted to set foot inside it again.

As soon as he had the thought, he pulled away.

How was it that the walls could close in so quickly? As if he needed some crazy birds to chase him around and make him feel any more isolated.

He pivoted and stormed to the final steps that would bring him to the temple.

The large white paper lanterns hanging from the main buildings had been lit. That must have been the light that had drawn him from the woods. The grounds had an ephemeral glow about them. The way their light reflected on the red paint reminded him of the Inari Shrine.

He spotted a few apprentices. Their brooms were unmoving, their work abandoned.

From their faces, Iruka wondered if the crows had visited them as well.

He peered around and saw more of the apprentices shifting cautiously around the entrance of the temple. The four monks stood at the center of their attention.

Bansai and Chiriku were toe to toe. The old man was shaking with rage while Chiriku stood as firm as an oak in the storm. Zenza's head turned back and forth between them, filled with anxiety. Sentoki was to the side of the cluster, lost in his thoughts and bearing a grim expression.

Iruka had never seen Bansai so furious.

"You're being unreasonable. He had a right to know!"

" _You_ had no right to tell him." Chiriku was filled with stony resolution, "I have to protect this temple."

Bansai's hackles rose. "It has nothing to do with him!"

"How are you sure of that? You can't be."

One of the students near the stairs spotted Iruka and whispered frantically to his fellow. The reaction spread like wildfire and suddenly all eyes were on him.

Bansai's face drained of life. He reached for Iruka, but Chiriku was faster. He strode across the temple grounds, stopping at the large iron bells. The temple glowed behind him, casting him in shadow.

"Umino-san, please come inside."

Iruka became overly aware of how close he was to the stairs. How much space there was between him and Chiriku. He fought the urge to run.

Iruka glanced past him to Bansai for guidance. The old man had wilted over, eyes on the ground.

Chiriku repeated himself, boxing away any previous hostility and returning to his usual calm, "Umino-san. Come inside."

Chiriku opened his palm toward the main worship hall, insisting.

Unable to justify his instinctual hesitation, Iruka moved past Chiriku and diligently to the steps.

His decision brought resignation to Sentoki and Bansai. They opened the temple doors. The old man uttered some quiet instructions to Zenza and the young man nodded. He came away from the temple to attend to the curious apprentices.

Iruka went past them into the dark room and the doors closed them all in.

Iruka had rarely set foot in the worship hall, only in his youth to clean it. The wood was a deep ruddy color, polished enough to glisten in the low light. The rows upon rows of plain wood pillars reminded him of the trees he had just sprinted through. Those that extended into the dark seemed endless. Iruka couldn't tell if he was more afraid of this room and the memories it awoke, or the forest of crows.

The statue of Buddha at the shrine behind Chiriku observed them with vigilance and encouraged Iruka to be at peace. He allowed its stable presence to ease his mind.

"Sit down, Umino-san."

He did so, but the other men remained standing, hovering cautiously around him.

Sentoki spoke first. "Iruka, do you know anything about—…" He caught himself and tried again, "Had anyone told you about Asuma before today?"

These were the first words his old friend Sentoki had spoken to him the whole day.

Iruka's brows knit together as a brittleness returned to him. "No. I had no idea." Then anger replaced it and gave him substance, "I didn't even know he was sick."

Chiriku noted their exchange carefully.

"Iruka, I'm sorry we didn't tell you sooner… I am. I know you were close to Asuma." His apology might have struck him as genuine if it didn't sound so guarded.

Emboldened by his rage, Iruka interjected, "We were all close once."

Sentoki visibly crumbled as silence fell over him and Iruka felt immediate regret.

It was Chiriku that responded. "Yes." He corrected Sentoki, "We were."

Sentoki's condition seemed to worsen. He held his arms tightly around himself, as if he was afraid he would lunge out. He paced restlessly as Chiriku took over.

"I can only imagine what an ordeal it was to lose your family at such a young age… and in such a way." Chiriku spoke as head of the temple now. Diplomatic and controlled, "I hope you have been treated well, despite the circumstances in which you were sent to us."

Iruka couldn't understand Chiriku's meaning. He was an orphan that the temple took in. Even if reasons why he had been sent were unique, that didn't make Iruka somehow special or worthy of different treatment.

Chiriku's overly courteous tone continued, "I wanted to ask you, if you don't mind, how much you remember from that night?"

This question was more familiar. The first few months at Kurama-dera had been filled with interrogations. It had taken some time, but after a while Iruka was able to recount all he saw to the Enten officials and the monks that took him in. His account had been documented as well as he could remember it.

Iruka shrugged. He had nothing more to add to the official story. "You know everything I do, Obou-sama."

Chiriku grew still and cold. That was apparently the wrong answer.

"You've been having nightmares lately, haven't you?"

Iruka laughed apprehensively and Chiriku's eyes narrowed. Another wrong answer.

He tried again, "D-did Zenza-san tell you?—"

Chiriku cut him short, "No. We've felt them."

The façade of courtesy fell away from Chiriku, leaving a hardened expression Iruka had never seen before. Iruka looked between the men around him and their frightening faces.

"I haven't been sleeping well. What does it matter?" His stomach dropped as Chiriku's words caught up to him, "What do you mean you've felt them?"

Bansai asked quietly from behind. "How long have you had them, Iruka-san? When did they start?"

He thought back to the first night his parents and the heat of those flames had returned to him. When he first came to the temple, he would hear his mother's voice echo in the hallway, or see flashes of his father's death in a flicker of fire from time to time, but it all passed. The image of that shapeless black and red horror from thirty years ago had dulled in his memory. He had convinced himself it was a delusion. The creative justification a child would invent to deal with trauma.

Nothing had been as immersive as what he saw now when he fell asleep each night. No memory had ever been so painfully perfect.

He finally replied to them, his eyes still clouded with thought, "A few weeks, maybe."

He drifted back to them to gauge how his answer had faired and was met with their terror. It was as if his face had painted the picture they sought and dreaded.

Iruka scrambled to reassure them. "They're just dreams, it's nothing." When they did not respond, he asked again, "What do you mean you felt them?"

Chiriku was almost unrecognizable. He was consumed by a primal fear. "The night your parents died, something was born. You saw it. A collection of powerful malice and vengeful spirits. An Onryou." Chiriku need not remind him. Iruka had seen the black hiding within the flames of the Inari. The name Chiriku used meant little to Iruka. That was what the monks and priests claimed had killed all those people, but Iruka knew it was beyond names. It was an ancient evil. "Those of us connected to the spirits felt it the moment it arrived. We thought it had been erased that night by the Inari."

Iruka nodded, recalling the white light that had saved him.

"That's what we all thought… until the day Asuma-sama passed."

Sentoki's pacing stopped and all eyes locked on Iruka.

The room spun and Iruka held his chest. He felt the pounding of his heart in his ears.

He couldn't understand. It had died, hadn't it? It was gone. It had to be.

Chiriku stood tall, devoid of emotion, as he said, "Today we were told the Onryou has resurfaced in Enten. It appeared the day that Asuma-sama died." His words were slow and deliberate. Unfolding. "The same day your nightmares began."

Iruka cowered back slightly. "I don't understand what you're saying."

Chiriku extended a hand and pointed to the center of Iruka's chest, "We fear there is a piece of it embedded inside of you." The head of the temple sought the older man's eye. Bansai's fury was barely contained as they met. Then he returned to Iruka as if he were examining a toxin that needed to be purged. "It was dormant and we believed it to be harmless when you first came here. We are not certain if it truly has a connection to the Onryou but, until we are, you will be confined. "

He examined their faces. All firmly set. Even though there was reluctance present in Bansai and Sentoki, they believed Chiriku's words. That was clear.

Iruka shook his head and muttering, "I don't… I don't know anything about this."

He jerked as if to stand, and the three men's eyes flashed with horror and hostility.

He fell back. These were the eyes that watched the land god. As if he would transform into a monster at any moment.

Iruka stared at his lap and searched himself for a sign. For anything. Anything that might indicate a change in him.

"Am I dangerous?"

Chiriku gave a veiled response, "Until we understand how to remove it, you need to be monitored." Bansai growled at that, but Chiriku went on. "This is the safest place for you, Umino-san. Here we can protect you."

What if something really was wrong? What if he hurt someone?

"We need you to cooperate."

Iruka clutched at his chest. He thought of the Onryou. It had only appeared for one night in his past, yet it had unleashed so much destruction and inflicted so much pain. With its reemergence, Iruka didn't need to imagine the panic that would spark in those who knew what devastation it could unleash.

If something like that was within him… what right did he have to refuse?

The reality of the threat he presented descended over Iruka and he smiled slightly.

He looked up at the monk, resigned, "If that is what Chiriku-sama wants of me, there is nothing more to say."

Sentoki and Bansai flinched as if struck. Chiriku nodded decisively and put an end to it. He invited Iruka to stand.

This was the long awaited answer Chiriku wanted from him.

The man helped Iruka to his feet, all his kindness and patience had returned. At Iruka's surrender, he became full of reassurance as a physician would for an ailing man.

"We'll help you how we can, Umino-san. You'll stay in the shrine behind the temple. It's only temporary, but we need to remove you from the students before rumors start to spread. There's no need to worry them."

Iruka's heavy steps echoed through his bones.

The doors opened and Iruka kept his head down, away from the curious eyes of the apprentices that waited outside. Zenza stood among them, trying to calm the students. He searched his fellow monk's for any information he could gather.

The trio led and Iruka trailed along, docile. They went off the stone steps and across the grounds to behind the living quarters. There was an obscured path leading toward the mountain peak. Zenza kept the students back, shepherding them into the mess hall for dinner.

Iruka dragged his muddied sandals, tripping over the winding roots. Iruka's legs already felt like soup after running for so long, but now he barely had the will to lift them as they retreated further and further from the warmth of the temple. Soon enough all that illuminated their path was the sole lantern's light and an eerie blue glow spreading like fog in the underbrush of the forest. It was the last hint of the setting sun across the mountains.

The trees were dense around them. The dirt trail was lined with thick ropes and paper wards tied between the trunks as they grew close. They served as a warning to those wandering close that they were encroaching on sacred ground.

When he searched beyond, Iruka was hardly surprised to see a few crows sitting in the foggy grass. Watching carefully. They seemed at least respectful of the wards. Perhaps he'd be able to sleep without their persistent eye upon him.

When he was in school, there were many of his peers that had an aching curiosity toward the shrine tucked far behind the temple, but Iruka had absolutely no interest. He had learned his lesson.

When they finally reached their destination the first thing that greeted them was a stone lantern reminiscent of the iron ones guarding the temple. The shrine was small and as old as the terakoya. The wood appeared black in the night light. The stone foundation was lined with moss and the timeworn roof was covered in fallen leaves.

The air was oppressively thick.

This was where the Inari's child had grown up. In this courtyard. Within this circle of trees. This is where the land god had been contained. Before the child had been allowed to truly live.

Bansai and Sentoki came to the stone steps, but no further. Chiriku went to the shrine, past the thick hanging rope and bell that was rung for offerings, into the black shadow of the roof. He undid what sounded like an iron lock. He pushed open the hefty wooden door to an empty interior. The monk gestured for Iruka to enter and he obeyed.

The room was much smaller than it appeared from outside. There were no openings for light. Just a wooden box.

Before the door was shut, Chiriku spoke to Iruka one final time. "We will bring you food and something to sleep on in a little while. Please understand, Umino-san. This is for your sake."

Iruka smiled, resting his hand on the doorframe, "Of course. Thank you, Chiriku-sama."

The head monk pulled the doors closed. With the grinding click of metal, the iron lock sealed Iruka into darkness.

The hint of light through the cracks faded as they departed with it. Their footfalls became softer until finally they dissipated, leaving him with only the faint cry of crickets and an occasional brush of wind through the trees.

Iruka sat in the blackness. Completely alone.

Within the tight walls of the shrine, the privacy was surprisingly welcome. To be unobserved at last brought Iruka a kind of peace. It gave him space to grieve for Asuma and entertain thoughts he had never allowed.

Eventually Sentoki came to provide bedding and his dinner. The monks took turns providing his meals, but never lingered.

At the sight of Bansai and Sentoki and their obvious guilt at his confinement, Iruka wished he could say something, to relieve them. To indicate somehow that he wasn't—… that he didn't blame them for not telling him about Asuma sooner.

Yet he could never find the words in time and each opportunity passed in heavy silence.

Why hadn't he followed Asuma and the land god when they left those years ago? At the time, he blamed his students. He couldn't leave them behind with no one to replace him as their teacher. He wondered who took care of them now in his absence.

Perhaps this was his chance to move on.

Perhaps he could start again when this was all over.

He held onto that belief through the first night and the second. But soon, the darkness and isolation brought about a new kind of nightmare that drowned out all other thought.

Asleep or awake. It didn't matter anymore. Iruka's past stalked him.

There were moments when he couldn't remember if he was sitting in the darkened shrine or trapped in the starless night cast by the Onryou. The growing heat of summer mimicked the stifling heat of the land god's flames. He would find himself clutching at his chest, struggling to breathe. The voices of his parents and the dying practitioners screamed in his ears.

Hours and days passed this way.

What evil was hiding within him? He couldn't understand. There was no weight to it. No force he could sense with his untrained eye.

All he could do was drown in that same, endless night.

He kept his futon permanently folded in the corner. The monks came and went, one by one. Their visits were always too short to ground him. They brought food, but Iruka barely ate. He was too lost to remember hunger.

After unmarked time had passed, Bansai's voice came from the other side of the door. Iruka opened his eyes to the crease of early morning light. He could almost make out Bansai's shadow standing at the foot of the steps.

"Chiriku-sama has sent for someone from the Inari Shrine to help cleanse the spirit within you. They think it will get stronger if we leave it alone." The wood creaked under the old man's weight. His elderly steps were slow and cautious. Iruka could hear him set down a tray of food.

Another person's presence filled him with relief.

"Please." His voice, unused for too long, cracked. "If he can cleanse it, let him. I can't take this anymore."

He waited for Bansai, but heard nothing. He watched the shadow shift and the old man placed his fist on the door with a gentle thud.

"I fear you won't survive."

For a moment, the words meant nothing. His body shivered—reacting first, before his thoughts could process.

Then they poured over him like cold water

His mouth fell open.

Desperation and betrayal and rage tore a manic path through him—pulling him in every direction from within. Yet he could barely move to breathe.

No wonder Bansai and Sentoki had been so conflicted when he gave himself over.

No wonder they could barely look him in the eye when they closed him back into darkness day in and day out.

His imprisonment was never meant to be temporary and they knew it from the beginning.

Chiriku was going to kill him.

Iruka was shaking. Instinct urged him to flee—to rebel. Break free of the shrine, it told him, and run into the woods. He would fight an army of crows if he had to. He would do anything.

Yet a shadow loomed in his mind. He couldn't forget his friend's faces. The monks were terrified.

The impulse to run was fizzling out. For thirty years, the people on Mt. Kurama had raised him, housed him, and fed him. He had willingly given himself to this town. His life and his time. What if he hurt the monks? Or his students? Would he risk that chance and run from the temple anyway?

Asuma was dead.

Even if Iruka wanted to say goodbye. It didn't matter. He was too late.

He had nowhere else to go.

Iruka laughed weakly, shocking the old man on the other side.

He couldn't blame the monks for their decision.

"If purifying me of this… evil protects the people here, isn't that the right thing to do?"

Iruka heard Bansai's prayer beads clicking as he pressed them through his fingers.

They sat in silence. The door was a canyon that stretched between them.

Bansai's voice extended a patient hand.

"Do you think the land god is evil, Iruka-san?" The wood creaked as he sat down, casting a shadow over Iruka through the gap in the door. He could almost make out Bansai's kind crinkled eyes. "Did you ever blame the land god for what happened to your parents? Do you blame him now?"

Iruka stared into the crack. This was the same view the land god once held. How long had they kept a child locked away in here? How long did he have to stay inside? Was he allowed to run and play within the protective wards around the shrine? Did he have anyone to talk to?

He would never forget the curious and noisy student that appeared before him. The boy that mirrored his own past. How had he stayed so bright and resilient? How had he faced the contempt and fear so many held for him without faltering?

"No. Not Naruto." He was just a boy. A troublemaker destined to fly in the face of every expectation set before him. He escaped their miserable town to pursue a better life. To find a place in the world where he belonged. "He's awkward and clumsy… and a screw-up… but he always tried his best." Iruka allowed the memories to warm him. They brought him a glimmer of peace. "I have nothing but respect for him."

The old man stood and, with a loud click, the lock was undone. He pulled open the door with Iruka's tray of food in hand.

Bansai stepped into the small shrine with a smile on his face. "You have your answer then." He sat the food before Iruka. "You better eat something, Iruka-san. The land god wouldn't be happy to see you like this."

Iruka knit his brows together as the old man shut him in and locked the door once more.

He stared at the tray, baffled at first. Then, as if possessed, he scarfed down his first real meal since his confinement.

He was sure Naruto and Asuma would be ashamed of him.

Chiriku and the monks wanted to know what Iruka's connection was to the Onryou, but he was in the dark as much as they were. Iruka couldn't believe he had anything do to with whatever evil had descended upon Enten. Yet there he was! Trapped in a wooden cage. And he had resigned himself to that? To take on the guilty charge without knowing why?

Was it too late to seek the truth? Was it too late to fight the sentence placed on him?

He cleared every dish that Bansai left for him.

Iruka would have to escape somehow.

He tested the floorboards and with some serious effort managed to pull one loose. He tore off its neighbor to reveal the thick structural bars of wood that made up the floor. He roughly kicked one to the side and made a large enough hole for him to squeeze through.

Then he kicked out the panels of wood below it, finally exposing the crawlspace beneath.

He stared into the narrow hole he had made as the afternoon light flooded in from below. All he needed to do was crawl down, bust through the wooden lattice the outside, and he would be free.

Iruka was almost embarrassed at how easy it was. Then again, the last person contained there had been a child.

He cleaned up the splintered wood and replaced the boards, but light was still leaking in. He covered it with his unused futon and sat in darkness once more.

He would wait until after dinner.

He tried to visualize where he would go, but Iruka was ashamed to realize he had no idea how to reach the main road to Enten from the mountain. He knew it would take him until morning at least, but what if he went the wrong way and ended up lost?

He knit his fingers in his lap and wracked his brain for any stories or hints in his memory for the right way to go. All the while he tried not to think about how he would be traveling in the black of night.

He devoured most of his lunch, delivered by the silent and guarded Sentoki. The rest he would stow away for the journey.

Sentoki took away the emptied tray from breakfast without any reaction.

Iruka resisted the temptation to say something to his old friend, concerned that any form of goodbye or thanks would be deemed suspicious.

When it was time for dinner to arrive, Iruka's legs were twitching.

Before he realized someone had come onto the shrine grounds, the lock to his prison was undone and Bansai threw open the door with more force than usual.

He was wearing his sedge hat and holding a long staff, panting lightly. His eyes were determined.

"The rain's coming, son. It's time you were on your way."

He pulled a bundle from his back and unwrapped it in Iruka's surprised arms. Within were the dressings for a monk. There was a formal black kimono and all its necessities as well as a fresh pair of two-toed socks and unworn shoes.

Bansai relinquished his woven hat and pushed it into Iruka's chest. "Get dressed. You're going on a pilgrimage, so you better look the part."

Iruka blubbered, "T-to where?"

The monk grinned and said, "To Enten." He assessed the clothes, "I couldn't get a hold of any official papers for you, but this should be enough. If you say you're going to the Inari Shrine, no one's likely to question it."

Bansai waved to someone. Into view came Sentoki, dressed and ready for travel.

Iruka stood slack-jawed.

Bansai gave him a firm pat on the arm, jerking him awake. "We don't have much time."

Iruka shook himself, pushing confusion away, and threw off his old kimono. He examined the new one as he pulled it on. He had lived with monks all his life. He knew how to position the white layer beneath the black, and how to don the white arm guards and properly tie them. He knew how to tuck the obi just right and to wrap the straps of the sandals as they would.

As Iruka smoothed the collar neatly around his neck, he thought of Chiriku jabbing a finger at his chest. The fake monk opened his kimono slightly and peered.

There, in the center of his chest, was a small shadow.

He thumbed at it as if it were a smudge but there it stayed. A black mark.

He repositioned the collar and swallowed hard. Whatever it was, it had saved him that night at the Inari Shrine. It was the last gift of his mother. Regardless of what the monks thought, Iruka didn't want to believe it was something evil.

He was about to meet them when he thought of his original escape route. He threw the futon to the side and pulled off the planks. He sat on the edge of the hole and kicked the lattice loose. He then closed the doors to the shrine behind him and locked it. When the others realized he was missing, at least Bansai and Sentoki wouldn't be blamed for it.

The two monks were waiting.

Sentoki chuckled at the sight of him. "It suits you, Iruka. But you need to hide that hair."

Iruka immediately pulled Bansai's hat over his tied hair and knotted its straps under his chin. "Thank you."

He was beyond relieved to see his old friend smiling at him again. It was the same subtle grin he showed as a child when he was being dragged into one of Asuma's schemes.

Bansai retrieved a pouch of essentials from Sentoki and secured it to Iruka's obi. Then he thrust a small bag at him that clinked. "That should last you for some time. I'm sorry there's not more."

The weight of it startled Iruka. A quick check inside confirmed it. He had never held so much money in his life. "Where did you—?"

Sentoki cast a thumb in the old man's direction, "Bansai-sama can be pretty crafty."

Bansai innocently shrugged. "It's customary to receive a sum for travel on a pilgrimage. Nothing crafty about that."

Their carefree spirits filled Iruka's heart. These were the men he knew.

"Iruka-san."

Iruka wasn't prepared when Bansai stretched out his prayer beads.

"Take them with you." His eyes crinkled kindly, "Humor an old man."

Iruka drew back. "I can't."

Bansai took Iruka's hands and held them together around the beads. His smile quivered as he spoke, "Asuma-san gave these to me when he left the temple." It took everything in Iruka not to crumble as Bansai released the token slowly into his care. Bansai's worn gaze rested on them for a moment, to say his final goodbye. "Please. Return them for me."

Iruka wrapped them gingerly around his wrist and fought back stinging tears. With renewed strength, he met Bansai's gaze. "I will. I promise I will."

"Take care of yourself, Iruka-san. Stay safe." Bansai passed the staff to Iruka, his last gift, "I wish there was more I could do."

Sentoki was watching the sky. "We need to go before it gets too dark."

A drop of water hit Iruka's cheek. He looked into the soft green glow of the trees as the clouds released a patter of rain.

Sentoki took him by the arm and pulled him forward into the thick underbrush.

Iruka cast a final glance to Bansai. The old man waved from the stony steps.

He let Sentoki drag him off the path and down the mountain.

Once they were well on their way, the man spoke, "Chiriku-sama won't notice you're gone for a few days. He's been too busy preparing for the Inari priest to arrive." It had been a long time since Chiriku had come to the small shrine to deliver Iruka's meals. That gave him some hope. "There have been a few strange things moving about in the woods since Asuma died, so you need to be careful." Considering he had already been chased by a flock of demon birds, Iruka wasn't surprised. "I can take you to the main road, but from there you're on your own."

The rain was starting to pick up, making Iruka very grateful for the hat Bansai had given him. Sentoki's knowledge of the forest kept them on a safe path, even as it grew dark. They were already much farther from the temple than Iruka had ever gone.

The monk noticed Iruka's amazement, "You've never been out here, have you?" He bitterly added, "I'm sorry, Iruka. What kind of friend have I been? I knew what was going on and I… I didn't do anything about it. I don't want to think ill of Chiriku-sama, but—"

Iruka stopped him, "Chiriku-sama does what he thinks is best for everyone. Don't doubt him now."

Sentoki smirked over his shoulder. "Do you want me to stick you back in the shrine?"

"Absolutely not," Iruka huffed. He laughed and added, "Please stay conflicted until I'm off the mountain."

Iruka leaned heavily on the staff as they went. It was surprisingly helpful to have something to balance with as they descended.

The mountain seemed to go on forever. It made him think of those legends involving enchanted forests unfortunate mortals would wander into and the maze of trees that would drive travelers insane trying to escape.

The rain was getting heavier now. There was even a rumble of thunder in the distance.

Iruka stumbled over a root and sighed, "What a pleasant night for a walk."

Sentoki chuckled, "Well, maybe if you had put up more of a fight, we would have gotten you out sooner."

Iruka was about to retort when he heard the call of crows and yanked at Sentoki to stop him.

Something stirred in the dark blue forest.

Iruka heard Sentoki mutter, "What's that thing?"

On the slope of the mountain Iruka saw nothing at first. The black trunks stood out against the lush green undergrowth. Then movement drew his attention, coming out from behind a tree in the distance.

There it was. The scraggly mountain dog. Scraping through the bushes, injured and dragging its paws. It wandered around sniffing the air. Searching for something.

It caught a scent and stood straight. It followed the smell, slinking markedly in their direction.

The call of crows came again and Iruka jumped. The dog jerked its head toward the sound and crouched. Out of the branches, they came swooping. The dog leapt to the side as they swiped at it with their talons.

Concern surged in him and Iruka darted away from Sentoki. The monk scrambled to snag him, but Iruka couldn't be stopped.

The stray snarled and snapped at the birds, but it was being overwhelmed. Iruka roared at the crows and wielded his staff as a weapon. He swatted at the birds, knocking more than a few of them and effectively spooking the rest. They veered back.

Iruka gazed down at the dog where it was crouched defensively. Its one eye pierced through him with startling intelligence, frozen in amazement.

"Run!" He bellowed.

The dog flinched, then sped into the tall grass and down the mountain.

Its retreating figure was almost enviable as Iruka looked on.

Grab your scraps and run, he thought.

Some crows swooped after it, but the majority of them had landed in the brush and on the branches around Iruka.

Something grabbed him from behind and Iruka almost smacked Sentoki in the face with his staff.

"What are you, crazy!?" Sentoki whispered harshly.

Sentoki held his beads in front of him, making a sign with his hand as he backed them away from the flock.

The birds in the trees flapped and cawed at that, but made no advances.

When they were far enough away, Sentoki pushed Iruka to start walking down the mountain again. Iruka couldn't help but check over his shoulder.

The crows coasted down to the ground and into the bushes.

Iruka wondered what they were doing, when from the underbrush small black cloaked figures rose in their place.

Iruka thought he might pass out on the spot.

They chittered to themselves, their heads twitching attentively. They watched the pair retreat. Then with a flutter of feathers, the crows took off in a flurry.

Sentoki and Iruka listened until the cawing faded.

Iruka whispered weakly, "Those were…?"

"Tengu. But I've never seen so many at once." He remembered himself and smacked Iruka on the back of the head. "What the hell were you trying to pull!?"

"I—I was saving the dog."

Sentoki groaned loudly, "That wasn't a dog!"

Iruka glowered at him. "How do you know?"

Sentoki gestured at himself and at his beads. "Who's the monk here? Tengu are guardians of the forest. They were protecting us _from_ the dog!"

Iruka let out a puff of air in disbelief. Guardians? How was chasing Iruka halfway through the woods a few days ago the act of guardians?

Sentoki saw Iruka's stubborn display and grumbled back, "Whatever. Just warn me next time you feel like getting us almost killed."

Sentoki stormed ahead, forcing Iruka to catch up to him. When he did, he nudged him with his elbow.

"I really am sorry."

Sentoki rolled his eyes dramatically.

Iruka sheepishly grinned, "Just like old times."

Sentoki couldn't help but laugh at that.

They walked through the night in the rain without any more excitement. When the wee hours brought the hint of morning, Sentoki told him they were getting close. Within the hour, Iruka could spot the winding road below.

The sun was still a ways from rising, but Sentoki was itching to return lest Chiriku miss him at breakfast.

They stood together, staring at what lie ahead for Iruka. Listening to the rain.

Iruka faced his friend. "This is it, then."

Sentoki nodded, solemn once more, wiping the weakening rain from his face. "It is."

"Thank you. For everything." Iruka smiled, "I'd still be in that shrine if it weren't for you."

"I don't know about that, you seemed to have a back-up plan."

Iruka shrugged, "There's no way I would have gotten this far."

A little sheepish at that, Sentoki started back up the mountain, "Well, it's not like I could let Bansai break you out on his own." He looked back one last time, and pointed, "East is that way."

Iruka scoffed, "I know which way is east."

"Good!" Sentoki laughed faintly as he went on, "Keep walking and you'll hit a post town eventually." He stopped on the slope to give one last wave. His voice echoed in the trees, tinged with sadness. "And don't come back!"

Iruka gripped the staff in his hand.

"I won't."

The lonely sound of his feet shuffling through the brush was all he could hear over the hiss of rain. By the time he reached the base of the mountain, it had gotten much warmer. For the first time, Iruka felt that summer was truly taking over.

He came to level ground and paused at the forest's edge. He waited for his breath to catch up to him and felt the thumping of his heart settle.

With the storm rumbling at his back and Asuma's beads pressed to his chest, Iruka stepped onto the beaten path and put the mountain firmly behind him.

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I'll see you soon! Thanks for reading!

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	2. Mama Told Me Not To Come

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Mama Told Me Not to Come

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**TRIGGER WARNING for sexual assault and attempted rape**  
Some nasty things do happen in this chapter. This won't be a reoccurring theme, by any means.  
To be safe, I'd say skip starting at "All he had was the seed. And the hope that the Onryou lived up to its reputation." to the page break or "Iruka put a hand on the man's chest, checking his still beating heart."  
Our boy is gonna be okay, but I'd be remiss if I didn't say this upfront.  
Thanks for reading! See you at the end.

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Iruka's sandals sloshed in the mud. The hem and sleeves of his kimono were heavy with water from the downpour. In a strong gust he grabbed his woven hat, unwilling to lose what was keeping the last few inches of him dry. He dragged himself along with by his staff and peered into the relentless shower only to ensure he wasn't about walking himself off the path.

He was sure there was a god out there somewhere mocking his miserable display.

The rain was warm. It would be almost pleasant if not for its persistence and Iruka's lack of an umbrella. The last stop he had made was a day behind him. Too far to turn back. The innkeeper insisted he wait for the weather to clear, but Iruka's fear of pursuit by anyone from Kurama-dera pushed him on. The river to the south glistened through the trees. Blotches of sunlight passed across the fields his path would soon meet. He had followed the river thus far. He had no choice but to trust it would take him east, as the other travelers had instructed him.

Ahead he noticed a particularly scraggly tree and, more importantly, an unstable looking lean-to built on the other side of the narrow path. He splashed to it and plopped on the bench inside.

Setting the hat on his lap, he slumped into the wall. At this age he was starting to recognize a consistent aching in his body, as if his youth was finally draining from his joints. He was getting too old for these kinds of adventures.

A breeze came in and coated him in cool, soothing air. He leaned into it with a sigh. The layer of white fabric peeking from under his black kimono was damp with sweat. He was sure this balmy spring would soon become an unbearable summer. He untied the white, sopping cover on his forearm and peeled it over his hand to finally yank off his fingers. While they might be of some symbolic importance to the monks, they were purely costume to Iruka and an unnecessary hindrance when soaking wet. He freed his other hand and crammed the bundle into the pouch hanging from his obi. His disguise could wait for the gates of Enten.

His thoughts were pulled back to the temple he had left behind. He fondly recalled the good food and peaceful company that once waited for him. Where the most troubling day to day events were roof leaks and children's' vandalism. He missed their modest ease that made silences feel full. There was a tight pang in his chest and he rubbed his prayer beads in his fingers.

Despite Sentoki's last request, Iruka would return one day. He would try.

He heard a huff and lifted his head. On the right of the trunk was a small hokora shrine made of stone—now eroding. Left of the tree's base was a large clump of something gray. Curiosity brought Iruka off the bench.

He couldn't tell if it was a clump of strange moss or a growth from the tree root.

Then the wad slowly rose and fell.

Iruka rushed over to the living beast and used his hat to shield it from the rain. It was curled up with paws resting over its nose. One eye drifted open and Iruka recognized it instantly.

It was the stray from Mt. Kurama.

Up close, the dog was much less intimidating. The wildness had gone from its look.

"Hey," he said awkwardly.

The dog ignored him and resumed its napping.

Iruka knelt down more to its level and brought the hat over them both. He noticed its other eye was sealed by a wound. He wanted to take a better look at it, but Iruka imagined the stray wouldn't care too much for that.

In a patient voice, he cooed to the animal, "You shouldn't sleep out here, big dog."

Its rest irrevocably disturbed, the dog lifted its head and shot Iruka a disgruntled glare. Thunder cracked overhead, making Iruka jump a little.

Its gaze was markedly intelligent. Yet here it sat, soaked to the bone with chilling rain.

Iruka averted his eyes, suddenly feeling sorry for waking it. "I mean, it's pouring. You should lie under some cover, at least."

The stray stared at Iruka, unmoving. Then recognition dawned. Iruka could tell it remembered him.

He gave it an encouraging nod. "Hey, yeah! You know me. Come on!" He stood and beckoned it. "Let's get under something. We don't want to sit in the rain all day."

Clearly not a fan of being talked down to, the dog gave a showy yawn and crossed its paws over its nose, settling down to sleep once more.

Iruka snapped at the disrespectful gesture, "What did I save you for if you're just gonna let yourself get sick out here! I'm—" He stopped himself, then took a deep breath as he realized, "—talking to a dog…" He brushed the fallen strands of hair from his forehead and calmed himself. "I'm talking to a dog."

The absurdity of their interaction settled in and, with a deep exhale, Iruka squatted once more beside the beast.

He stuck an elbow on his knee to prop his head up. The rain carried on, soaking his back, but Iruka didn't really notice. He simply started at the intelligent creature as they rested in a stalemate.

The dog peered from its pouting pose. Observing the defeat in Iruka, its tail wagged once.

Iruka chuckled at the endearing action, then quickly reconsidered. "You're probably not even a dog. You could be some swamp monster waiting to swallow me up."

The dog's tail twitched as if to wag again, but gave an insulted huff instead.

"You really should get under some cover, regardless. I'm sure you're cold. Even if you are a demon." Iruka snickered, leaning heavily into his hand. "I'm must pretty desperate for company if I'm willing to sit here and talk to you anyway."

The dog opened its eye at that and the two watched each other as the rain roared steadily around them.

Iruka could feel the dog's steady gaze break him open. Despite his best efforts to forget, it reminded him how truly alone he was.

Unable to bear it, Iruka sifted through his pouch. He placed a strip of dried meat next to the stray and stood. He took a deep breath and spared a moment to pay his respects to the small shrine.

Then Iruka put on his hat and gave a saddened farewell to the creature. "Take care of yourself."

Iruka had lingered long enough. He pivoted in the mud and journeyed on in the unyielding rain.

He distracted himself with planning. If he kept his pace, he would make it to the next post town well before nightfall. He had eaten most of the food Bansai left him, save a few dried scraps. He had plenty of money for a room and whatever else he desired, but he had no intention of burning through it before getting to Enten.

Something padding over to him from behind and there was another huff. Iruka turned and the dog stopped in the road. It stared with one wide eye, dripping with rain and chewing zealously on the jerky.

It started to wind up, twisting its head, and Iruka realized too late what it intended to do.

"No, no, no, no!"

The dog shook madly, sending a drenching spray of water all over Iruka. When it finished, Iruka wiped the water from his face with a loud grumble. It padded closer to him with a spring in its step and a few pounds lighter.

Iruka shook his head angrily and showed the stray his empty hands. "I don't have any more food for you."

The dog glowered, unbelieving.

Iruka turned on his heel and trudged ahead, fuming. The demon dog was nothing but trouble and he didn't need to encourage it.

He walked on until his frustration dissolved.

He glanced behind to see if the dog still followed, but it had vanished.

Disappointment flooded in and Iruka's shoulders sagged.

"Well…" he said quietly to no one, "That's that."

After another hour, the muddy path was finally starting to slope downhill. One side dropped off, giving him a clear view of the rice fields. It wouldn't be long before he was free of the woods. Anything would be better than tripping over tree roots and sloshing though mud.

He followed the bend and spotted something moving in the trees. The spindly underbrush cleared just off the path to reveal a young woman struggling with her load.

The image was oddly familiar.

He sprinted through the cutting brambles to offer his help. "Excuse me. Are you alright?"

As he came to her, the young woman looked up. Her face was flawlessly pale and her black hair was sleek with water. Her plain kimono was soaked through, revealing her shape beneath it.

Iruka's chest thumped loudly. He felt himself flush. "Let me… assist you."

The woman smiled and passed him her pack. It felt like a sack of rocks as he flung it onto his shoulder.

Iruka ignored his thudding heart. "Are you going far?"

The woman said nothing. Her thin red lips were etched in a grin. She took his arm and pulled him into her side. Iruka gazed bashfully at the trees as he guided them back to the road, trying not to think of the warm softness pressing into him.

On the path again, Iruka guided her carefully.

"This rain is terrible, isn't it? There's a post town not far from here, so I'm told."

The bag seemed to grow heavier and Iruka's feet sank in the mud. He thought he saw the woman's red smile widen and just when he turned to look, he slipped close to the cliff's edge.

Iruka staggered back, "Oh, be careful! It's—"

There was something slick on his hand and he could have sworn he saw the woman's hair move up his arm.

A vicious snarl from behind made them both jumped.

Standing on the gnarled roots of an old tree above them was the stray. Its black eye pierced through them. The hackles on its body bristled as it lowered aggressively into a crouch. Iruka prepared to shield the woman when he caught a glance at her.

The color drained from the woman's hair, lifting off her shoulders as it did like spider threads. Her limbs stretched too long, aging as they did, and her face transformed into that of a terrifying, shriveled old woman.

A memory flashed in Iruka—he had seen this woman before. In the woods. Her lanky silhouette batting away the crows as they attacked her.

Her painted lips stretched into an unnatural blood red smile. They parted to bare the thin pearly needles that were her teeth.

Something else had followed Iruka from the mountain.

He shut his mouth on a scream and dropped the woman's bag. When it struck the earth, it dissolved into mud and rocks. A tendril of white snuck up on him and Iruka staggered back. It caught his wrist and started reeling him in. Iruka dug his heels into the mud and fought to tug free.

The dog's growl blended into a howl and the creature covered its ears. Its hair slithered fearfully, curling in like spider legs and releasing Iruka. He collapsed back into the brambles. The witch hissed at the stray, momentarily sparing Iruka, and clamored up the incline after it.

The dog didn't hesitate. It leapt at the hag, ripping its white hair away. The thunder rumbled angrily above them, followed by a dangerous snap of lightning. The witch hissed and cowered into herself. She searched the clouds. The dog lunged at her, but the hag was faster. Her hair tangled around the dog's ankle and slung it down into the mud.

Iruka grasped at the branches close by to pull himself up and they snapped in his hand.

The witch turned her glass eyes on him again at the sound and opened her mouth in a high-pitched scream. Her hair slithered after Iruka and the clouds roared again. In a powerful flash, a sliver of light struck the ground between them with explosive power.

The hag wailed as she shielded herself from the light and she skittered fearfully away into the trees, leaving Iruka collapsed in the mud and mess of branches, wide-eyed and mouth agape.

The ground sizzled as the rain put out the scorched scar the lightning had made only feet from him.

He sat there panting and flinched when he saw movement from the lip of the road.

The stray's shaggy head reappeared. It trotted down to Iruka, stopping at his feet. Its one eye was half open and full of judgement for the stupid death Iruka had only narrowly avoided.

When Iruka said nothing, the dog let out a reproachful huff.

"Th-thank you." Iruka laughed nervously. Cautiously, he dug in his pouch to retrieved the last of his food and offered it.

The stray wrenched it from his hand and eagerly chewed. It examined him and, once satisfied, it went ahead on the road. Iruka's eyes trailed—stupefied.

It paused on the path, then gave a beckoning jerk of the head when Iruka didn't move. He scrambled to his feet and went along after it.

They walked on but Iruka was still completely stunned. The dog seemed rather chipper and eventually paced itself a few feet to Iruka's left. Its dark eye watched him as if to reassure him.

Terrified by his brush with death, but thrilled by their reunion, Iruka fought a smile.

In no time at all, they fled the forest for good. They broke out of the trees as the rain faded to barely a sprinkle. Just enough to keep the air cool.

The rice fields stretched out north and south of them. A light fog rolled on the farmland, but only by the patches of sunlight. The farmers tended their crops without interruption, uninterested in the mud-lagged monk and his ragged dog.

Far down their path, there were signs of the post town emerging from the mist. There would be an inn, hot food, and shops waiting for him there. The thought of new shoes almost brought Iruka to tears.

The sun peeked out, warming him. He let the hat fall back and hang from the tie around his neck. He stretched the collar of his kimono and sighed loudly.

The dog followed suit and gave another good shake, sending water and mud flying off him.

Iruka shielded himself from the onslaught and laughed helplessly.

When the dog was done, it gave a contented huff. Iruka rolled his eyes and sniggered at his bizarre companion. He looked up at the parting clouds and couldn't help but feel a wave of excitement overcome him. Was it relief? Or maybe he was in shock. The various unbelievable things he had experienced were beginning to pile up.

All the same, he couldn't hold back the jittery feeling rising within him any longer.

He took one heavy step, then another. Spurred on by the buzzing warmth spreading through him, he broke into a sprint down the road.

He ran as fast and as hard as he could. Unlike his run on the mountain, there were no obstacles to slow him down. The dog sprinted beside him. He imagined how strange it probably looked to the farmers. A grown man—a monk, no less—running and laughing with his dog after getting soaked in the rain.

Iruka didn't care. He let himself laugh and cry out. The warmth rose in his cheeks and a few happy tears squeezed out.

Bansai was right. He had been quiet for too long.

He and the dog practically sprinted the rest of the way.

When the road weaved toward the first building, Iruka finally slowed to a stop. He braced his hands on his knees and caught his breath. The dog stuck beside him, its tongue hanging out as it panted.

"—too old—!" He shouted breathlessly at the ground, "I'm too old for this!"

He stood straight and fixed his kimono. The dog waited expectantly.

Iruka ruffled the dog's head with a chuckle. "I hope you got a good laugh out of that."

Despite the indifferent look on its face, the dog's tail whipped back and forth with mirth. Then its stomach growled loudly and it broke from him to walk toward the town.

Iruka followed, shaking his head, "I got it, I got it. I'll give you anything you want."

As they came around the first building, a booming voice made the man and stray jump.

"What the hell should I pay him for!? If anything, he owes me for the merchandise I lost!"

There was a woman with a head of pale pink hair standing by an impressive pack that passed her hip. The base was a chest comprised of drawers in assorted sizes with stubby wooden legs that kept it out of the mud. Attached to the top was fabric woven on a frame, stuffed to bursting.

"I'm not paying a bodyguard that lets me get mugged!"

A representative of the post town stood between her and a pitiful rounin. He did his best to defend the young samurai. "You hired him. It's your responsibility to pay him for accepting the job—"

Her head tilted so harshly, Iruka thought her neck might snap. "Oh, because he accepted the job. I see." She grabbed the onlookers' attention with her volume, "So if I hired you to clean my house and you burned it down, I would owe you for the job you had accepted?"

From the storefronts and buildings, a small crowd had begun to gather. Neighbors and shopkeepers muttered amongst themselves.

The woman went on, "Is this the way you conduct business, officer?"

"What? No, I—"

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you were trying to swindle me." The woman revealed her short wakizashi sword at her side, tapping on it with an impatient rhythm.

The crowd echoed her complaints, pointing accusatory fingers at the officer and the rounin.

The officer was in a full panic, "No! I'm not!—" Iruka could almost see the rounin's swords wilting. "I'm so sorry for your trouble, ma'am. Of course, you won't be charged."

The woman smiled tightly, "Good. Are we done?" The woman hoisted the massive pack effortlessly onto her shoulders. The officer started to say something else, turning on the rounin now, but the woman stopped him. "Don't worry, I'm won't ask for money back. What I lost was easily worth more than what you both make in a year." She took a step and pointed at the samurai. "But you owe me, you understand?"

The rounin whimpered, bowing his head low. "I-I will protect you with my life!"

She tied her hat in place. "Learn to protect yourself first, then we'll talk."

She stormed off, leaving the dozen or so bystanders to gradually disperse.

Iruka jogged after her.

"Haruno-sensei!"

As soon as she saw his face, she brightened. "Shishou! It's been a while." She took one look at his apparel and immediately amended, "Or should I call you Obou-san?"

Iruka flushed. It was mortifying to be addressed so wrongly, "No! No, I'm not—… It's complicated."

"I'm sure." Sakura put her hands on her waist and raised a curious brow, "I don't think I've seen you off the temple grounds before. Or in monk's robes, no less." In her appraisal, she spotted his filthy shoes, "We have to do something about those."

Without an ounce of effort, she whipped off the massive pack and curled it one handed to the ground. She sorted through the fabric section for a bit, then produced a pair of geta. The wooden teeth of the shoes were terribly worn.

"They may be a little small, but they'll get you by."

Iruka kicked off his old shoes and ruined tabi socks to don the new set. "Thank you so much, these are perfect."

She lifted the pack again, eying him curiously, "What brings you here?" She seemed to remember herself and apologized, "If you don't mind my asking, that is."

Iruka laughed, "You don't have to be so formal, sensei." His thoughts drifted through the various reasons he had to leave the mountain and whether he should burden his old student with them before finally landing on the explanation he had grown accustomed to giving. "I'm traveling to Enten for a funeral."

Sakura saw through his meaning instantly.

"Ah. Of course," she said with thinly veiled anger. "Asuma-sama."

The reaction was unexpected to say the least.

Sakura saw how she'd thrown Iruka and softened, putting a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. "You were close with him, weren't you? I'm so sorry." Sakura searched the storefronts. "Let's find a place to sit and catch up. There's a good bar nearby that serves pickled daikon."

He trailed her apprehensively and the dog followed.

Sakura immediately stopped and examined their strange third wheel.

"Is that your dog, Umino-san?"

They studied its oddly pensive face. To Iruka's surprise, it ambled to his side and bumped its head under his hand.

Iruka was delighted and scratched its ear, "It saved me. From a mountain witch… I think?"

She blinked in disbelief. "A what?" Then she gave an open mouthed groan. "Somehow I'm not surprised."

"What's that supposed to mean?" His brows knit together. "I had been doing very well up until that point."

"Of course you were." She pointed at the dog, "With your luck, that's probably a demon too."

The stray and man locked into the other's gaze as they had grown fond of doing.

Considering everything, Iruka held little doubt it was some kind of otherworldly creature. The tengu certainly didn't like it, which was suspicious. Iruka had also heard of dog spirits that would guide travelers on their way if you prayed to them. Perhaps it was one of those. After all, if it really wanted to eat him, why save him from the witch? Then he considered it might just be trying to keep Iruka for itself.

Unable to decide, Iruka shrugged, "I'm sure it's fine."

Sakura gave him a wide-eyed stare. "That's your problem, Shishou! You have no sense of self-preservation."

"How would you know?"

"You're just that type."

In response the stray licked its chops, leaving a small part of its tongue sticking out.

Iruka laughed, completely charmed.

She pointed critically at the dog, "See? This."

His patience tested, Iruka cut her short. "Sakura."

Her old teacher's scolding tone ended it. With noticeably less bravado, she gave one last condemning grunt.

"Don't blame me if it tries to eat you later."

He put on a polite smile, "Thank you. I'll keep that in mind."

When they pushed through the shabby noren curtains into the shop, the dog stayed to guard the door. Sakura kept her eye on it, but it seemed content to wait outside.

It was a spacious bar, though a little rundown. There were elevated tatami mats with a few low tables on them lining the back walls, and two tall tables with stools by the entrance, one of which was available. Sakura sat there with her back in the corner and Iruka across from her.

Sakura hadn't changed much since he last saw her. She was already well-traveled and utterly fearless even as a young girl. Despite her patchy attire, she was a beautiful woman now. Iruka never knew why she had chosen the life of a migrant doctor and medicine merchant. He had little to teach her whenever she did stop in for his classes, but she had always been eager to learn something new. For many years now she had supported his temple as a physician and as one of their few links to the outside world. Unfortunately for Iruka, Sakura was fairly astute and he didn't have much confidence in his ability to lie to her. He would have to keep their visit short, lest he drag her into his troubles.

Sakura was keeping a close eye on the door, hardly paying attention as she ordered the food and saké. Iruka threw in a request for scraps from the kitchen, hoping they might appease the stray.

She asked him, "When did you hear about Asuma-sama?"

He stammered, unprepared for her to leap right onto the topic. Sakura didn't seem to notice. "A-a few weeks ago, I guess. I couldn't leave right away."

"Who's next in line is still up for debate. It was supposed to be Konohamaru-sama, but now people are questioning his parentage, even though the Daimyo already claimed him as his grandson." Sakura added darkly, "For now, we'll just have to hope the Daimyo doesn't decide to kick it any time soon."

The server approaching their table happened to hear that and hastily placed their dishes.

Sakura watched them go, as if waiting for them to pick a fight. In fact, Sakura seemed very wary of every individual in the bar.

She poured saké for Iruka and he returned the kindness. Iruka took his first swig a little too desperately. He hadn't really heard anything about Asuma's other family or the order of succession in their time together. It had never been relevant in their mountain town.

They sat in silence for a moment while Iruka pulled his thoughts together.

He rambled nervously. "Our head monk told me Asuma-san had been sick for months. Is that true?"

Sakura merely nodded, eyes on her saké.

"I had no idea," he continued. He stifled the creeping sadness in his voice, "I hope he was at peace in the end."

Sakura dwelled on that for a moment, then diverted. "He would have made a great leader. The nobility isn't the same without him. With Konohamaru-sama next in line, there's a lot of power shifting. A lot of uncertainty."

He was a little startled by her coldness. Iruka hadn't thought about what kind of trouble losing a political figure like Asuma could cause for the people of Enten.

He realized Sakura was observing him and sat up straight. Her gaze softened and he saw his young friend again. She gave his hand a gentle pat.

"It's been years since I've seen you, Umino-san. Have you been avoiding me?"

Iruka chuckled, relieved at her changed demeanor. "Hardly. What about you? Don't have time anymore to visit old friends? Or have you set up shop in Enten?"

"No way," she sneered and took a bite of radish. "I'm just stopping in for a bit."

"Really? You could make a nice living in the city, I'm sure of it."

Sakura gave a mocking laugh. "There's no profit in staying put. Not when there are new discoveries being made out here every day for me to monopolize." She took a sip from her cup. "I'll take care of my business in the city and move on, like always."

"Isn't it dangerous out here?" He dug at her gently, "I mean, didn't you just get robbed?"

She was caught off-guard, "Oh, you saw that. Right." She brushed it off quickly, "Well, you can have a bad day anywhere."

Iruka seemed to be learning that lesson the hard way.

She swirled her saké and quietly added, "Enten might not be as glamorous as they say, Umino-san."

Iruka's heart throbbed in his throat as he remembered what waited for him in the city.

"Do you mean the Onryou?"

The woman was genuinely surprised. "You heard about that, did you?" She scoffed, "I guess a place like Kurama-dera would be worried about a giant demon cloud showing up out of nowhere. As if Enten didn't have enough problems…"

Iruka's stomach dropped. "What about the land god?"

Sakura snorted, "He's proving to be pretty ineffective for a god of prosperity and peace. And the Inari Shrine hasn't had any luck removing the demon cloud or whatever it is, so people aren't too happy with them at the moment." Then she spotted the sincerity in Iruka's face. "He's fine, Umino-san. The land god is safe."

That lifted a weight off him. The thought of that boy facing the same entity that killed an entire shrine of people sent chills down his spine.

"Do they know what it is? Where it came from?"

Sakura shrugged, "Some people say it's Asuma-sama."

Iruka's cup clicked loudly as he put it down.

"I said some people," she amended defensively.

Without hesitation, Iruka admonished her. "There was no way a person as compassionate as Asuma would become something like that in death."

His tormented expression jarred her and she scrambled to explain herself, "I'm sorry, Shishou. That was… rude." Sakura scrunched her nose, "I'm not the biggest fan of demons and gods, so I really don't know much of that gossip. I don't think it's true, or anything."

Iruka's agitation dissolved instantly into shame. He finished his cup with a sigh. He wasn't sure if he should apologize for the outburst or address her for calling him a teacher again.

"It's fine, Sakura. I'm sorry for snapping at you. I know you didn't mean anything by it."

"I was out of line," she said, putting her hand over his.

With that, the tension dissolved.

Sakura couldn't help but comment. "It really is good to see you again. I just wish it were under better circumstances."

Iruka couldn't agree more.

She carried on, "I haven't been in very good company lately. Or really with any company at all. It's been a long time since I've met up with someone I truly trust."

The hint of weakness in her words made Iruka's heart ache, but before he could form a response, a new thought brightened Sakura and she quickly topped off his cup.

"How would you like to go on an errand with me, Umino-san? It's not far."

Her eyes twinkled with the innocent need of a former student, but her grin spelled trouble.

Iruka cringed, "I, uh— It… depends on the errand."

Sakura put on the most pitiful face she could muster. "You'd really be doing me a favor. I just need someone to go on a little trip with me."

"Does it happen to be the same trip you got mugged on?"

Sakura munched on some radish and chose to remain silent.

Iruka grumbled, accepting the bait, "What would you need from me?" Sakura took a breath to begin, but Iruka interrupted her, "—If I choose to accept."

That was all the affirmation she needed. "My supplier lives in the woods on the way to Enten. I just need a buddy with me on the road to dissuade any thugs who might try to rob me."

Before Sakura could finish, Iruka was shaking his head fervently.

"You should hire a professional. I'm no bodyguard."

"I already tried that and look what happened." Sakura kept her voice low. "I can't risk it." She tried to keep her playful glint, but real concern was seeping through. "My supplier has been experiencing some theft and I'm almost certain it's one of the mercenaries our boss hired to protect her that's responsible. Not long after he came on, some thugs found my route to her fields and have been harassing me ever since. I know he's the traitor, but my boss won't do anything until I have proof." She guzzled her cup. "She'd like to send someone new to escort me, but I don't know who to trust at this point. The rounin I hired was too spineless to do any good."

Iruka poured for her as she jammed pickled daikon into her mouth.

She chewed with a mischievous glint. "That's why, Umino-san. At times like these the only people we can rely on are our friends. I know I can trust you."

Iruka was still shaking his head. "This doesn't sound safe."

"You do dangerous things all the time!"

Iruka was stunned, "When have I ever—!"

She pat his arm reassuringly, "I'm not expecting you to fight anyone for me, Umino-san. I can handle myself." That did little to make Iruka feel better. She tried again, "They just want my supplies. If worse comes to worse, I'll hand them over."

He grimaced. "I'd like to help, but I really can't afford the delay."

Sakura was winning him over and she knew it.

"They're close by. It'll only take an extra day."

"I have to get to Enten—"

"We're still within the forty-nine days of mourning. Plenty of time before the funeral."

Iruka hid behind his cup and finished his saké. As he lowered it, Sakura was ready with the bottle. She had another plot up her sleeve.

"How about this? If you outdrink me, you're off the hook."

Iruka, incredulous, raised a brow. Iruka was confident he could lift and throw the woman sitting across from him—albeit with some serious effort.

"Really?"

Sakura nodded, wiggling the bottle in her hand.

Pride won over his better judgement.

He puffed out his chest with a smug grin. "I didn't train in the mountains all these years for nothing."

Like a snake that had its rabbit cornered, Sakura emptied the bottle into his cup and called to the bar owner, "Master! Another round!"

A few bottles in, their loud boasting caught the interest of the bored regulars—the majority of them elderly. Iruka was still a little distrustful of the older women, but they proved mostly harmless. They shoved drinks at the pair, swarming the table and buying bottle after bottle, bullying them with lamentations of their wasted youth when they tried to refuse.

The ruckus drew others in from the street and soon enough the place was packed.

Iruka could barely see straight. His thoughts swirled together and he suddenly remembered the stray outside. He thought of the food he had promised to deliver and was almost certain that the beast wouldn't have been satisfied with the meager scraps Iruka had sent its way. With new purpose in mind, Iruka toppled from the stool into the patrons, who whooped and hollered in response. The master of the bar promptly called the match in Sakura's favor.

Sakura sat casually, elbow resting on the table. Her cheeks were red, but her vision was clear. "What kind of training did you do, Obou-san?"

She toasted the cup to him and drained it.

Iruka barred his teeth at her and enunciated, "Bite me."

One laugh echoed in response from the far corner of the room above the others, like a rumbling.

Iruka's head floated on his shoulders to see.

At the furthest table, men and women alike leaned in toward a ghostly man with silver hair. He wore a light blue kimono loose enough on his shoulders to reveal a dark tattoo along his collar bone.

Those amused eyes turned on Iruka just as something glinted red under the lantern's glow.

The lights dimmed for Iruka and he swam in a drunk abyss.

The downpour brought him around. His chest throbbed weakly. Cold and rigid. His arm was tugged across Sakura's shoulders as she helped him to a hotel. Thunder droned and lightning flickered in the purple sky. They made it inside and Sakura unceremoniously dumped Iruka onto the futon. She staggered out, sliding the door shut.

Sleep was setting in when he realized the window was still open, drenching the tatami floor. He stumbled to the window and light flashed in the clouds.

He heard whining.

The stray was squeezed against the wall, trying to fit under the awning. It was shivering and glaring at him.

Iruka stuck his head out of the building and tossed it left and right. The coast clear, he wrapped the dog in his clumsy arms and hauled it over the sill. It thrashed and grunted in a frenzy.

Iruka fell backwards and the two crashed on the floor. Thunder smacked.

He snuggled into the wiggling animal until eventually it gave up with a huff.

He listened to the beast's quickened heart. It reverberated through Iruka. He stroked the stray's neck absently and gradually its beating slowed. Iruka felt his own grow calm and match pace.

Finally warm and at peace, sleep took him with the window left agape.

* * *

The cry of the Inari's newborn resounded numbly as Iruka blinked awake and the familiar dream faded. Sakura had an herbal tea ready to ease his aching head and tumbling stomach. The dog was nowhere in sight.

"Get it together! We've got a full day ahead of us." She walked onto a wet patch in the floor. "Did you leave the window open?"

"I have to go to En—" Sakura aggressively whipped the futon out from under him. "Enten."

Sakura victoriously smiled above him, "We had a bet, Umino-san."

Iruka rolled onto his belly and moaned loudly into the bundled blanket.

Sakura attached a small stack of boxes to her hip, held together by two chords running through them. A large, spiraling snail shaped bead secured a knot at the top. Presumably they contained some of her medicinal fare for easy access.

"There won't be any breakfast for you if you don't hurry." She closed the door after her.

Iruka staggered onto his feet. He was only wearing his white kosode. He didn't remember folding his kimono, but there it sat in a neat stack. He whipped on his clothes and grabbed his pouch. He took his time to enjoy the tea. It was thick with ginger and something he couldn't identify that turned the brew bright yellow. He recalled the wet wadded arm covers he had stowed the day before. Iruka snatched them from his bag and hung them on the window sill, praying they wouldn't blow away. Lastly, he threw on the beads and pressed them to his lips once before leaving.

The rest of the inn was dead silent as he tiptoed to the front and tied on the shoes Sakura had lent him. The state of the sky outside hit him with disbelief. The sun was not up yet. Not even close. And it was raining again. Why on earth did Sakura need to see her supplier at this time and on this kind of day? His frustration went from a simmer to a boil, then instantly made him nauseated.

Sakura was waiting for him with an umbrella in one hand and a hefty wrapped bento in the other that she hopefully intended to share. The dog sat by her, wagging its tail and chewing aggressively on a piece of meat. When it saw Iruka it stopped chomping and glared, teeth slightly exposed.

Someone snuck by to greet Sakura, giving Iruka's tired heart a jump start.

The older woman approached the dog and its tail wagged with a new passion. She gave him a pat. It was clear who had provided the food this morning. "I'll save your rooms for you, sensei." She greeted Iruka with a slight bow and he immediately sobered. He returned the gesture, embarrassed of himself and the state of the room he had left for her to find. "You're going with Sakura-sensei today, Obou-sama? Please keep her out of trouble." She handed him an umbrella with a wink. He decided it would take too much energy to correct her.

They bid the old woman good-day and traveled north along the seam of rice paddies. The farmers were already getting to work, despite the weather.

The dog cantered ahead of them, breaking occasionally to shake off the rain.

Sakura snickered, "The dog is a nice touch. He looks absolutely terrifying."

Just then, the dog turned to look back at them. It's tongue flopped out the side of its open and panting mouth.

They walked until the sun was high. When they stopped for a break, Sakura handed Iruka and the dog their portions of food.

"So your supplier—"

"Shizune."

"Shizune-san. She grows your herbs for you?"

"For a substantial cut, of course. She has a gift for raising foreign plants."

"Is that… legal?"

Sakura gauged Iruka's reaction as she spoke. "No. Shizune makes… less conventional remedies. Things to induce vomiting, thin out your blood… Effects that can save a life in dire circumstances. It takes a lot of skill to make medicine strong enough to work, but not outright kill you."

Iruka's fragile stomach flopped.

Sakura finished her food and stowed the bento. "I don't want you to think Shizune has any ill intentions. Her customers often have private reasons for seeking her out, but some would consider what she makes poison. It wouldn't be that far of a jump for her."

"That's what the thieves…?"

She hissed, adjusting the pack on her shoulders as she stood. "I'd rather they just take my money."

Their path led into the woods and the shade was a pleasant change. Eventually they came to a wall of cliffs that stopped their progress. The impasse stretched seemingly without end in both directions. Iruka looked to Sakura for guidance, but it was the dog that found their path. The stray bounded up to the wall, sniffing. Then it disappeared behind a formation that jutted out from the cliffs. Sakura and Iruka followed it, discovering a narrow divide in the wall that stretched forward into darkness.

Sakura stepped inside and Iruka trailed fearfully. They descended between the rocks, and gradually the sun was shut out behind them. The weak glow filtering down from above was just enough to light their steps.

In the shadows, Sakura presented the crevice with her hands.

She whispered and it echoed slightly, "This is where they got me last time. Going around would take almost half a day. Unless you feel like climbing."

Iruka put himself on high alert.

Sakura chuckled at the sight. "Don't worry, Umino-san. I don't have any goods for them to steal yet."

They progressed without interruption until the clearing came into view. The first thing he saw was a trio of plum trees that framed a small house. A variety of shrubs, saplings, and vines littered the property. Surrounding the house itself was a mess of wildflowers.

The long grass before them glistened in the rain.

Sakura stopped at the edge of the woods. She gave a troubled sigh, then stepped into the light.

The dog launched itself into the tall grass, bobbing up and down from within it with great leaps.

Two armed guards marked their approach. The first one wore darkened glasses and had his kimono sleeves tied up with a cord. A short sword like Sakura's was sheathed at his hip.

He stretched his arms to her. "Sakura-san! We were wondering when you'd show up. Our lady hasn't slept a wink since she heard what happened to you."

Sakura's mood instantly shifted to revulsion.

"No thanks to you, Yoroi. It's no wonder there are bandits crawling all over Shizune's land."

Yoroi threw up his hands. "Listen, I'm paid to protect the lady and the plants. They can do whatever they want with the rest of it."

"So long as they don't burn down the forest we're in." The second armed guard remained by the door as he spoke. His hair was loose and he had a pattered bandana knotted at his forehead. From his lip hung a long toothpick.

Sakura knew that voice. "Genma, how's it going?"

The man perked. "Good to see you, Sakura. It's been a while." Then he gave Iruka a small, respectful bow, "Obou-san."

He tried to correct him, "No, I'm—"

Yoroi continued, "If you asked nicely, I'm sure Tsunade would get a guard for you too."

Sakura fiercely replied, "I lost a lot of merchandise because you're too lazy to do your job properly. And I don't like a sword for hire throwing out the boss's name so casually. Know your place."

"Woah! Genma, you hear that?"

The dog's fur bristled and it swayed to come between Yoroi and Sakura. Iruka stammered peaceful encouragements behind them, but was unheard.

"I'm not talking to him. I'm talking to you."

"Why all the hostility? How do you know it wasn't Genma's fault?"

"Genma doesn't have his head up his ass."

A voice came from the tall grass by Shizune's house.

"Now, now. Let the man be, missy."

The older man hiding there rose up, almost a full head above them thanks to the strikingly tall geta on his feet. He adjusted the red haori draping over his short green kimono and pants that were folded to the knee. His long white hair was tied but horribly disheveled. His cheeks were tattooed with red streaks coming from his eyes. Iruka had never seen face tattoos on a person before, but he knew such marks to be the indication of a former criminal. He tried not to noticeably gulp.

The man's voice, despite his aged appearance, was resonant and strong. "He knows he's done wrong. So will your boss, I'm sure."

Yoroi rolled his eyes. "There's nothing to tell, old man."

"Sakura." Shizune stepped from the house, grinding something with a mortar and pestle. The action was nervous. "You're two days late."

Sakura came straight over, taking a small pouch from the boxes on her hip.

"I brought you more tobacco. Where's your book, Shizune? Let's take our time and chat."

Before she could protest, Sakura led her into the house.

The pair vanished, leaving the men to their business.

They could hear Sakura inside saying, "What do you have for me today?"

The white haired man returned to his place in the grass. The stray sniffed the air around him. The man smiled and put out a hand. The stray took tentative steps at first, then it moseyed over and sat together with him.

Genma chuckled, "And we're back to doing nothing."

Yoroi crossed his arms and suggested offhandedly, "If Shizu-chan let us help once in a while, maybe she could relax a little."

Sakura reappeared to answer him, then made a beeline for Iruka. "I don't trust you to know honey from your own piss, Yoroi."

Genma whistled while Yoroi smiled tightly. "You win, princess." Then he stormed off.

Genma called to him, "Where are you going?"

"To look for bandits!"

Genma snickered when Yoroi was out of earshot.

She shoved a well-used book and a basket into Iruka's hands. "Get me the goji berries, reishi mushrooms, honeysuckle, hawthorn, and red clover." She stabbed the book with her finger on each word. "Berries, mushrooms, honeysuckle, hawthorn, clover. Got it?"

He scrambled to lock her commands in his head, but she had disappeared before he could ask any questions. He repeated the list to himself, but couldn't help his growing frustration. Sakura clearly thought Yoroi was guilty. What was she playing at?

Genma took a few of the baskets propped on the house. "I'll help you, Obou-san. Just show me what I'm looking for."

It was too late to tell him otherwise, so 'Obou-san' he was. "What about your… colleague?"

Genma smiled. "He'll come back or he won't."

The two of them found the small group of goji trees hugging the floodplain. The book described the berry's ideal ripeness, and they quickly cleared the tree of those ready to be picked. The mushrooms were also simple to find, growing on the trunks of the plum trees.

To Iruka's relief, Genma drifted into small talk.

"How do you know Sakura?"

Iruka answered warmly. "She's provided her services to my temple for a long time now. She usually stays with us while she does business in the area."

"Which temple?"

"Kurama-dera."

The toothpick twitched, "Oh! I hear your fire festivals are very exciting."

Iruka went red. "We tend to get a little rowdy."

Rowdy was an understatement. For one night every autumn hordes of nearly naked men ran wild. Carrying torches, wearing masks, and drinking up the saké the villagers had spent the past year brewing from dusk 'til dawn. After spending the whole day boozing and building a giant shrine from freshly cut trees, villagers and travelers alike would break into a ceremonious brawl where they competed to either light the shrine, or defend it. Bansai used to say if you remembered the event, you didn't try hard enough.

He almost dove into the story of Asuma and Kurenai's meeting, but held back. For a moment there, he had forgotten himself. He jerked himself painfully back into reality.

"I'll have to visit for the next one." Genma nudged Iruka with an elbow. "You can give me the inside tour."

Iruka dabbed his forehead with his sleeve. "I'd be happy to." He clumsily changed topic, "What about you, Genma-san? Did you meet Haruno-sensei in Enten?"

He nodded.

"Do you work for the same employer?"

Genma glanced at him and smirked. "We're associates, yes."

Iruka heard laughter and saw the dog thrashing its tail fervently beside the old man. "Who's the…?"

He had a knowing glance that Iruka couldn't discern. "Jiraiya? He's an author of sorts."

"What does he write? Poetry?"

"He covers a broad range of genres, but nature has been his main inspiration lately."

Iruka He certainly knows his way around the plants."

Jiraiya and the dog strolled to the goji tree. The old man plucked a berry, rolled it in his fingers, then popped it in his mouth. He started piling berries in his hand when Shizune yelled at him from inside the house.

"That's enough, Jiraiya!"

Iruka and Genma regarded each other, then flipped through the book. Two results of eating goji berries stuck out to Iruka.

Decreased joint pain and improved sex drive in men.

He clapped the book shut.

The desired mushrooms tumbled in their baskets. The two flowers and hawthorn were last on Iruka's mental list. Genma squatted in the flowerbed by the shrubs and Iruka turned to the winding hawthorn tree. Sprouts of the tree were often used for bonzai, but he had rarely seen one grown out. The book said leaves, berries, and blooms could be used, so he filled the basket without difficulty.

When he finished, he rested at the tree's base and browsed the book.

Fever, loss of appetite, infection, muscle spasms…

The idea that medicines meant to help people could be turned into poison haunted him. Though Sakura didn't show it, he was sure it frightened her as well.

Suddenly the hairs on Iruka's neck stood and he searched the trees. He could have sworn he'd seen something move. He waited, but there was nothing.

"Umino-san?" Sakura came from the house and trudged through the weeds to him.

He stood with his basket. "How's this?"

She held out her hand for the book which he slapped into her palm.

Sakura nodded, "Perfect. Follow me."

Genma helped them move the baskets inside Shizune's house, then returned to his post.

The room was warmly lit. Plants of all kinds were strung up to dry on the ceiling. Drawers and shelves covered the walls. The most interesting thing, above all was that Iruka could spot not one written document or label in the place. Sakura busied herself with the ingredients they'd gathered—laying the blossoms and leaves out to dry, bagging the berries and mushrooms in organized sacks.

Shizune was sunken in the corner, leaning on a table cluttered with tethered bunches of stemmed plants. The ashes in her pipe glowed.

"Thank you for accompanying Sakura. I understand you're traveling to Enten together."

Iruka nodded, "I'm going to pay my last respects to Sarutobi Asuma-sama, son of the Daimyo."

Her eyes had shadows under them. Her breath suddenly shook as she said to him, "You have my deepest condolences for your loss." Shizune took a deep drag. Her tone seemed out of place to Iruka. She was listless, like the breeze could shatter her. "I'm truly sorry."

Sakura approached the woman and pet her head. "I'll be borrowing your book, Shizune."

"I'm so sorry." Shizune couldn't lift her eyes from the floor. "Please, be safe."

Sakura stowed the book on her person, and finished packing her bag with various sacks of loose ingredients as gently as she could.

The woman tailed them to the door, holding the long pipe tightly. "Bring me news from Enten. And take that old man with you. I've had enough of his sticky fingers."

"Yes, yes. I hear you." Jiraiya loaded his wooden case holding scrolls and books. He bowed slightly to Sakura. "I'll follow you to town, if you don't mind."

Sakura put her pack on as well, "Not at all. The more the merrier."

Meanwhile, Iruka found the dog lying at the base of the goji tree. He shuffled through the grass. There was a small bound book by his tail. He picked it up and noticed it had no title.

"You can keep that if you like, Obou-san," Jiraiya called from the house.

Shizune hissed, "Just hurry up and go, you perv. Leave the monk alone."

Iruka stuffed it in his kimono and placed a cautious hand on the dog's back.

"Hey. It's time to go." It didn't respond so he rubbed its fur and called softly. "Hey."

It nuzzled further into the grass.

Sakura shouted from the house, "Come on, or we'll leave you behind!"

They both startled. Iruka jerked his hand away and shot to his feet. The stray lurched up, half asleep. Iruka sprinted after Sakura and the dog groggily pursued him.

Shizune called when they reached the trees. "Say hello to Tsunade-sama for me."

Sakura winced, but waved regardless.

The forest wasn't as welcoming as it had been during the first leg of their journey. It was getting dark and the nightly chill was setting in.

Iruka suddenly felt worn out. He was confused by the supplier's behavior. By the brevity of their visit. He wanted to speak to Sakura, but she was trapped in her own thoughts.

Jiraiya struck up conversation with him.

"What brings a monk this far from his temple?"

He gave his rehearsed answer, "I'm paying my respects to a friend who passed away in Enten." He remembered the book and took it out. "This is yours, Jiraiya-san."

Jiraiya waved his hands, "No, no, you keep it. It's a gift."

The stray observed with interest.

Iruka weakly conceded and returned the book to the folds of his kimono. "If you say so. I'll read it when I have time."

That gave a little bounce to the dog's step as it guided them on the darkening path. Iruka kept track of the flicking silver tail.

The beads on Iruka's neck clattered. There was something odd about the older man. Now that they walked together, Iruka could focus on it. The air around him was swirling. It was ethereal. Like the Inari.

His chest felt strange, hollow. He put his hand there, feeling for absent his heartbeat.

They reached the rice paddies and the post town came into view. Iruka hardly noticed, however. The scenery faded into the background of his mind, along with whatever words were spoken.

"Are you alright, Obou-san?"

Iruka tried to concentrate, putting one foot in front of another. His legs were turning to wood.

Jiraiya saw Iruka teeter and grabbed him. "Missy, the monk is…"

His throat felt dry. His head dizzy.

"Umino-san?" She drenched a rag and put it to his skin. "Can you hear me? Tell me what's wrong."

Her voice dragged in his head as his knees collapsed.

He didn't remember making it to town, let alone the room. He recognized their voices, muddled as if he were sunk in water.

"What do you think, missy?"

Something hot was being smeared on his chest.

"They were watching the house for sure."

There was a strange fragrance, incense of some kind. It lulled him.

"Do you think they'll come for Shizune-chan?"

Shuffling of fabric and paper. "Not so long as I have this."

"Why not ask Tsunade for help?"

In the long silence, Iruka began to drift.

"This couldn't wait. Besides I don't want to owe her any favors."

The jovial hoot in response was the last thing Iruka remembered. When he woke again the room was pitch black.

Sakura was sound asleep at his side.

He loosened his kimono and looked at his chest. He removed the leaves and wiped clear the ointment Sakura had administered to reveal the black patch over his heart. It had grown since he last saw it.

It pulsed coldly, heat and life disappearing into it. The seed that had saved him. The last gift his parents gave before the world he knew died.

He covered Sakura with the blanket and left. The hall was dimly lit by small lanterns lining the floor. His footfalls reverberated through his legs and he was gripped with that numbing cold. His head buzzed.

He stepped out to where the lights from the establishments cast a warm glow on the dirt road and wandered into the street. He could feel that swirling again. But this wasn't warm and benign as it had been with Jiraiya. It was hateful. As if something hungry was lurking nearby.

That sensation jolted him awake. He listened to his own breathing and gripped the beads that had been entrusted to him.

He had felt this shift in his heart before.

On the mountain, on the road—when the mountain witch was near him.

It wasn't his heart—it hadn't been then and it wasn't now. It was the seed.

He took in the street with new eyes. It was late. Most of the post town residents had gone to bed. There was something strange further up the road. A group of samurai stood outside the noble's inn, all in their formal kamishimo—vests with shoulders that came to a point and long hakama pants, paired swords at their side.

Rising above them was a steady stream of thick smoke. At first Iruka thought it might be from a pipe, but there was too much of it to be natural. It trailed them as they cruised into a high class bar. Somehow, no one had noticed it.

Iruka followed them, fear sinking in his gut. He went into the bar and sat alone where he could still hear the general raucous of their group.

A haze filled their corner of the bar. His heart was pounding now. The seed was awake and watching, Iruka could feel it. His eyes locked on one of the older men just as he opened his mouth to speak. Smoke dribbled out. The others saw nothing.

Iruka watched from behind the lip of his cup. The smoke wriggled on the ground and encircled a younger man's feet across the table. Crawling on his legs. Discomfort and an unexplained dread showed on the boy. The older man's spite was growing—a mix of lust and hate clearly unobserved by the group. He was being overtaken by it.

Iruka's thoughts churned. He had to help the young man somehow. Could he draw the samurai out? The group had surrendered their katana at the door, but each of them still had a wakizashi. If Iruka accidentally started a fight, he would without a doubt be cut down.

He didn't understand what he was seeing, but the smoke was spreading in the bar and the atmosphere was shifting with it. The others around the man were being affected. Either adapting to the maliciousness or cowering under it. A wisp of it came close to Iruka and he reached his fingers out to touch it. He felt its warmth on his hand and watched as it coated his fingertips. He felt the flicker of violence and hate it carried, then instantly it was gone. Sucked out of the air and into nothingness.

Iruka jerked back, dropping his cup on the table with a clatter. It was enough to make the possessed man twitch at the sound and slant his head. Their gazes tangled. Iruka put down his hand and looked away.

The smoke detached from its original target and the boy showed obvious relief.

Iruka felt that same relief until the smoke spilled onto the floor and started crawling in his direction.

As it came closer, Iruka fought to keep his face calm. The stream extended out of sight under the table and he felt it creep up his leg. The smoke squirmed over him. The seeping hate and violent desire hiding within it sent a rush of panic through him. Just when he thought he would be consumed by the strong emotions, an emptiness clawed at Iruka's chest and the seed dragged in the malicious energy.

It was effortlessly pulled into nothingness and the weight vanished. Iruka breathed easily again.

He checked the possessed man and was met with an enraged and distorted face.

Whether he was ready for it or not, Iruka had gotten the spirit's attention. He quickly rose, leaving payment for his drink with shaking hands. He rushed outside and the man followed with calculated slowness.

The minute he was in the street again, Iruka had no idea what to do. He had no plan. The possessed man stalked him patiently as Iruka walked toward the samurai's inn. Hysteria was rising in his throat. This was a mistake, he thought. Iruka couldn't handle this on his own. The smoke spread on the dirt road, threatening to envelop him.

The inn was fast approaching but his mind was too scrambled to grasp a solid strategy. He turned and took a frantic step in the direction of his own inn.

His arm was caught in the man's grip. It burned feverishly on his skin.

The samurai's eyes were clouded, his words slurred. "Good evening, Obou-san."

Iruka tensed. The spite was thick, overwhelming. His actions suddenly felt extremely reckless.

"G-good evening."

He hoped there might be a witness close by, but they were the only ones in the street. Not that a normal person would notice anything odd about the two men at a glance.

The man sluggishly slid his hand off Iruka's wrist. "Would you like to keep me company?"

The urge to go running down the street pulsed through him, but Iruka stayed still. It was his last chance to escape, but he couldn't let this man return to his company. He couldn't let this man find another victim. And something in Iruka had to know what would happen. If what the monks said was true, the Onryou could consume spirits and demons. Perhaps he could help this man.

He tried to keep his voice level.

"I'd be… happy to."

The demonic spirit writhed joyously as the man swept Iruka into the inn. Letting him walk ahead. The owner scanned up for a second before seeing the samurai, then immediately lowered his head without a word. That struck Iruka as a bad sign.

The long walk gave him time to think. His hands twitched at his sides as he tried to recall all he had heard about possessions. Most stories said spirits would occupy a person to feed off the host's impulses and the resulting suffering of others. If the host became uninhabitable—either through purification or threat of its host's death—the spirit would be forced to leave. Something like that, right?

He was ushered upstairs. The further they went the more isolated Iruka felt.

Iruka was no monk, so purification was impossible, and he wasn't about to kill an innocent person. He had no confidence he could, even if he tried.

All he had was the seed. And the hope that the Onryou lived up to its reputation.

The man's hand slipped around his waist and Iruka was pulled into his grip. A wet mouth latched onto his neck and Iruka's whole body seized up. The samurai slid open the door they had stopped at. There was a single lamp lit in the corner on the floor. A lone futon was laid out in the center of the room.

Iruka was forced inside. Before he could recover, the man crushed him against the wall. His kimono was aggressively pushed out of the way. Iruka pressed himself into the wall in an effort to evade the invasive touch. The man lowered his head and bit deeply into the exposed skin on Iruka's shoulder, hard enough to draw blood.

Iruka cried out in pain and shoved the man away.

When he looked back to the samurai, Iruka's blood chilled.

Dark blue dyed the skin around the man's eyes and mouth. It was as if his veins had been stained with poison. The smoke pouring out of him was spreading, filling the room with a pungent smell.

The animosity took control and the man lurched in to punch Iruka in the stomach. Iruka doubled over, hitting the floor. The crazed man grabbed Iruka and lugged him by his clothes onto the futon, tearing loose his obi. He held Iruka down into the bed by his throat and started peeling his layers away. Iruka thrashed, scratching at the vice grip choking him as the man hurriedly unknot Iruka's undergarments with his free hand. Iruka was released when the man finished and lights popped in his vision.

While he was still catching his breath, the man grabbed Iruka's hips and lifted them onto his lap, Iruka's legs splayed apart. The man leaned down to drive a tongue between his lips. When Iruka resisted, he was punched in the ribs. Iruka let his mouth release and be invaded, disgust rolling in his stomach. Heat and smoke from the possession dumped down his throat.

Finally the black burr awoke.

No longer a gentle drain, the seed started to aggressively consume the demonic energy.

The man sucked in Iruka's tongue and bit hard. Iruka's eyes shot wide. All around them the smoke swirled and writhed, wanting to escape, but the body it possessed was oblivious.

As the man's clammy hands fondled Iruka's tanned skin, he kept his eyes open. Hot, damp fingers prodded his backside and he clenched, earning yet another violent pounding. He grunted into the man's unremitting tongue as it gagged him. He dug his fingernails into the futon.

He imagined the young man from the bar who would have been lying there in his place. He remembered the inn keeper's shameful expression and thought of the other people the malicious spirit may have sought out and brought into this same room or others like it. While the man crushed Iruka under him, he could see the miasma dissipating. Iruka knew he could end it.

The man and spirit were already weakening. The smoke no longer thrashed, but curled in the air like wispy silk. The samurai's actions slowed and Iruka easily resisted them, peeling himself away. The man sat up to look at Iruka—exhausted and confused—then horrified. His eyes unfocused and he tumbled off the futon, collapsing unconscious on the floor.

Iruka put a hand on the man's chest, checking his still beating heart.

He kept it there as the last of the blue smoke moved around them. It was changing. As it came into the air around Iruka it turned pure white, like fine sand glinting in the glow of the lantern. The seed sapped away the last of the spirit's energy and the room grew still. The samurai's breathing eased.

In the calm and empty room, all traces of evil were gone. All that remained were Iruka's panting gasps.

He fell onto his back, adrenaline draining away. Too worn out to stay awake.

He drifted to where his nightmares waited.

* * *

When Iruka came to, he was curled on his side.

The lantern was out and the air was stale. In the pale glow of morning, the room seemed harmless.

The samurai was long gone. Iruka wondered if the man would remember anything that had transpired while he was possessed. For the sake of his honor as a samurai, Iruka hoped he wouldn't.

His clothes were in a heap by the door.

He rolled onto his back to discover the futon was soaked with sweat, now cold. Repelled, he sat up. The bruising on his ribs twinged at the unexpected movement and he checked the damage done. His torso was already turning terrible, painful colors.

He noted one mark in particular.

The small briny patch of black was still there on his chest and he silently thanked it.

He didn't care if it was a part of the Onryou. It had saved him. And it stopped an evil spirit from hurting other people.

As Iruka traced the mark, he pondered whether the seed would have remained dormant at the temple, surrounded by spiritual purity, or if its awakening had been inevitable.

It was naïve to think the priests from the Inari Shrine had really found a way to remove the seed. If that were the case, why hadn't they come to find Iruka well before the Onryou had appeared? After what Sakura said about the Inari Shrine's difficulty dealing with the Onryou, he was starting to wonder if they had intended to use him as a scapegoat somehow. To appease the people. Considering that, Enten might not be the safest place for him to go.

Iruka shook his thoughts away. It was too late to second guess now. Enten was his only hope for discovering the truth.

He wiped the hair loose from his neck where it had dried. Despite everything, he felt incredibly light and free of the cold. The gentle tap of rain invited him to open the window and from the second floor he had a clear view of the sleeping town.

Iruka wrapped the unused comforter around him and leaned on the sill, resting his face in the crook of his arm. As the morning air washed in, he breathed heavily and listened to the pattering of raindrops.

When a jolt of discomfort ran up his side, his memories from the night before put themselves in the forefront once more. The orange light, too bright. The shadows of smoke rampant on the wall above his head where he lay.

He buried his face and groaned loudly.

Despite his clear success, it didn't feel worth it. Not in the slightest.

"Some people really get off to monks. Why is that?"

Iruka leapt out of his skin.

"Though I'm not sure you're really a monk."

Perched outside on the edge of the building's wooden awning was a young boy.

A dark mask covered his mouth and nose. Despite that, the young boy hid himself even further behind a scarf draped about his neck. He clung to it diffidently. Fluttering silver hair framed his face, but the most captivating feature by far was his left eye that glowed a bright and bloody red.

Iruka whispered frantically, "What're you doing out there!? Get inside!"

He reached to pull the boy in, but his target flinched back.

He scooted away, glowering at Iruka. "No, thank you. I'm just fine out here."

The boy seemed oddly familiar.

"How did you get up there?"

The imp shrugged.

"Don't shrug at me. It's dangerous out there. You should come under the awning, at least."

The boy only glared.

Iruka sighed, "I won't grab you."

Seeing that he had truly given up, the boy inched closer.

He peered past the sill into Iruka's lap and the man whipped the comforter over himself in a flurry.

The boy's eyes squinted in a smirk. "Too late to be shy, Obou-san." He leaned forward, crossing his arms on the window. He watched Iruka with piercing intensity. "Are you hurt?"

Ashamed, Iruka shrunk under the comforter and rubbed the scar on his nose. "It's nothing."

A shadow drifted into the child's gaze—a quiet anger. "That doesn't look like nothing."

There it was. He knew that look. The man from the bar their first night in the post town. The resemblance was uncanny.

"I'll be fine." He was much more concerned about the brat hanging onto the outside of a second story window and how to return him to his neglectful father. He gave his best teacher smile, "Thank you for asking."

The boy perked up at that. "You're a strange monk." He rested on the window sill, full of awe and contemplation. "You deserve better."

Iruka couldn't help but laugh, "That's for sure."

The boy stood smoothly. The playfulness in his voice changed and Iruka's stomach dropped.

"Wanna have a go? I promise I'll be gentle."

Iruka froze. Perplexed. "What?"

The kid's eyes slipped to Iruka's crotch, then flicked back up.

Horror instantly flared in Iruka and he practically yelled, "What!? No!" Iruka babbled meaningless sounds before managing to say, "That's— What? What are you even doing up here!?" Careful to keep himself covered, he took the comforter in hand and crab walked to his pile of clothes. From under his shielding he fumbled to don his kimono. "Unbelievable! Unacceptable! Who taught you— What kind of parent—"

A thought struck him and his eyes narrowed. He turned back to the boy.

"Where is your father!?" He hissed as he worked to redo his fundoshi undergarments, "He and I are going to have a serious conversation about… exposure…!"

The kid lifted a brow, "Exposure?"

Red faced, Iruka roared, "—To bad influences!" Finally dressed, he stomped to the window. "Get in here. I'm taking you to your father."

The child laughed raucously, "My father? What father?" The imp slid easily along the side of the building and out from Iruka's reach. "You're wasting your time, Obou-san. Unless you feel like joining me out here."

Iruka grumbled at the sill and pointed, "Stay right there, I'm coming to get you."

He grabbed his belongings and left the snickering brat in the window.

Iruka sprinted as quietly as he could down the stairs. Despite his agitated state, the owner seated at the entrance of the hotel didn't even look up. He pushed his disturbed rage to the side as he raced away from the building to search the second floor. The child was nowhere to be seen.

He was about to storm back up to the room, when a voice stopped him.

"You're doing much better."

Jiraiya was walking up the street to him.

Sniffing at the old man's sleeve was the stray. When Iruka saw it, all the tension in him melted.

The dog tilted its head at him in confusion. It went to him and knocked his hand with its nose.

Iruka hesitated at first, then rubbed the scar over its closed eye. The dog leaned into him as Iruka scratched its ears. Suddenly Iruka felt very tired.

"Hey, you." He ran his hand through the soft fur and found himself fighting the urge to cry.

The dog watched him, mimicking his furrowed brows. The dog bumped his hand again and Iruka laughed weakly.

"You had us worried last night."

Iruka nodded, "I'm sorry about that. I'm not sure what happened."

"It was no trouble, Obou-san." Jiraiya gestured casually at Iruka's chest, "That's an odd tattoo you have."

Words stuck in his throat. He hoped his clothes were concealing the bruises.

The all-knowing air around the old man was unsettling. He seemed trustworthy, but that odd other-worldly presence was still there. Swirling. He wasn't a demon or evil spirit like what possessed the samurai, but he certainly wasn't normal.

Jiraiya chuckled. "Don't worry about it, Obou-san." He put a hand on Iruka's shoulder and gave him a wink. "You can tell me the whole story over drinks sometime. I'd be very interested to hear it."

Iruka's name was called from afar. There was Sakura, hauling her box and Iruka's belongings.

When she reached them, she was out of breath, "Where did you go this morning? Why didn't you wake me?"

Iruka scrambled for an excuse. He gestured vaguely at the sky and said, "I thought some fresh air might be nice." He quickly relieved her of his staff and hat. "Thank you for your help, sensei. I feel much better."

Sakura's suspicion was clear, but she was too groggy to pursue the subject. "Let's go. We might just reach Enten before nightfall."

Jiraiya stopped them. "I'm staying behind, missy. I have a few more stops to make. But I'll see you in the city."

She frowned and searched his expression, "Jiraiya-san."

"Why such a face? I'll be good." He ruffled her hair. "I'm just looking for an old friend."

Sakura was reluctant, but the older man wouldn't be dissuaded.

They checked their things, gathered themselves, and said a final goodbye.

As they parted, Jiraiya called to Sakura, "Don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

With that, they made their way out of the post town.

Iruka was glad to see it go. He may have gained some knowledge about his condition, but he questioned the cost. He worried about what truths Enten held for him and what their price might be.

Rice fields surrounded them before long. The sky had cleared in time for the stark blue and yellow sunrise. Already it was turning out to be a sweltering day.

The dog wagged its tail at Sakura until she fed it some dried fish. Iruka's stomach grumbled in response. Sakura rolled her eyes and offered the day's breakfast from their inn owner. They sat on the bank of the farm and ate, Iruka and the dog indulging themselves graciously.

They were making good time. In the distance was the final forest before Enten.

Sakura finished quickly and packed up. "You'll have to find me after you visit the Daimyo. I'd like to see you again before I leave."

"O-of course. After I visit."

Iruka felt a dangerous discussion approaching.

"Do you know where you'll be staying?"

Iruka handed her his dishes, then stood saying, "Um… well—"

"Oh, that's right. You'll be at the shrine."

"No! No. I… I wouldn't want to trouble them. I'll…" He tried to sound nonchalant. "I'll find an inn or something."

That puzzled her, "Why not? I know you're not a monk, but I'm sure they'd be happy to have you. Or are you? I never really asked."

He tried to steer her away, but he could tell his vague answers were working against him.

"No, I'm not a monk or anything. Bansai-sama just thought… it would be easier for me to travel like this."

"So you're impersonating one? That's interesting."

Iruka laughed stiffly. "I suppose that's right. That is a little strange."

"I don't know how much you brought with you, but Enten can be expensive. I think you should try to stay at the shrine, monk or not."

Iruka scrambled to agree, "I-I'll go there. I just mean… I don't think I'll go there right away."

That was too fishy for Sakura. "Why not? It'd be a waste of money."

"There's no rush, like you said." Iruka attempted to sound flippant, "I've still got time."

It was too late. Sakura's intuition had been lit. It was as if their interactions from the last few days came flooding back to her. Every awkward answer, every hesitation on Iruka's part that she had been too distracted to notice was piecing together. He could feel her bright eyes drilling into him.

They walked a few steps without a word between them. Iruka wanted to give her an explanation she might swallow, but he couldn't find anything that wouldn't just make the situation worse. The silence forced Sakura's hand.

"You are a terrible liar, Umino-san."

Iruka flushed and blustered back, "I don't know what you mean."

"Okay. Well. I don't think you're lying about paying your respects to Asuma-sama, but I'm clearly missing something."

Iruka clammed up. Maybe if he stayed quiet about it, she would let it alone.

With a sigh, Sakura leveled her pace with his so she could see his face properly.

"What are you hiding from me?"

"N-nothing."

Without another word, Sakura jabbed her finger squarely at Iruka's chest and onto the mark of the seed. Her clear green eyes held no room for further lies.

It wasn't that he didn't trust Sakura. He didn't want to drag anyone into his problems. Especially when he wasn't sure how deep his troubles went. If he was not mistaken about the seriousness of his ailment, the Inari Shrine would be looking for him before too long.

Sakura relaxed her posture to his surprise.

"Umino-san, I won't force you to talk. It's not any of my business. But—" she pointed once more, softly, "— _that_ worries me. I'm worried about you."

Iruka was losing the will to dodge her. He thought he wanted Sakura to give up, but now he only felt more guilty. She was his ally and his friend. He knew that.

He folded, saying quietly, "I don't really know where to begin."

Sakura latched onto the opening. "What is it exactly? The mark."

He smiled reluctantly at her, choosing his words carefully. "I'm not sure, to be honest. It only showed up recently. I… I started having some strange dreams a few weeks ago. And the monks sensed something inside of me… waking up. They think…"

She jostled his arm when he trailed off. She watched him intently.

He continued, "They think it has something to do with the Onryou."

Sakura reeled back, laughing sardonically—flabbergasted by the strange jump in topic. "The Onryou? Why?" She returned to Iruka for an explanation, but he was dead serious. Her mirth faded, leaving her baffled. She groped, trying to pull his scattered statements together. "What does that have to do with you?"

"It's a long story, and I don't think they care about the details. But…" He took a deep breath. "The dreams started the day Asuma-san died."

Her expression instantly darkened.

Sakura turned from him, walking tentatively down the path once more. Iruka caught up, matching her pace, watching her expression as she worked to fathom the significance of his words.

They walked in heavy silence for a while.

Finally she asked, "What does that mean?"

"I don't know." He shrugged and gave a halfhearted chuckle. "I'm hoping I can find more answers in Enten." He quickly added, "I just need to be quiet about it. The Inari priests aren't too happy about the timing of everything. I don't know what they'll do if they find me." He didn't feel like going into the specifics. Sakura didn't really need to know they wanted to cleanse whatever the seed was and inadvertently kill him.

She mulled over that for a moment before saying, "That's true. We'll have to be careful."

"We?"

"Who else is going to watch your back in Enten? It's a big place." Sakura let out a long and loud sigh. "I'll tell you now—any exorcism I conduct won't end well, but I'll help you in whatever way I can."

That got a laugh out of him.

He hadn't realized how reassuring it would be to share his load, even if only a little.

"I'll be in your debt." He inclined his head graciously.

Sakura purred at the idea being owed a favor, "Sounds good to me."

A little lighter on their feet, Sakura and Iruka followed the dog onward.

The rice paddies were coming to an end at the edge of the woods.

Here the road diverged. The high, level path that wove carefully through the trees was intended for carts and more cautious travelers. The other thorny and rigorous path cut down through the hillside—carved out by those wishing to save daylight.

Sakura led them downhill into the brush.

"Umino-san, I have to say. The monk robes are growing on me."

Iruka burst into a laugh, "Is that so?"

"Honestly, it suits you. All you need to do is shave your head."

They had shimmied down the hillside. The route was littered with roots and stones—an endless collection of things for Iruka to trip over. They had almost come to a clearing. Eager for a break from the rough terrain, Iruka was entirely focused on not face-planting. When they were almost out, something shifted in the distant trees.

His eyes were instantly drawn.

He saw nothing at first. He thought he had imagined it.

A tingle in his chest egged him on. He slowed to a stop as he left the dense brush.

He scanned the trees, ears perked.

Then something white darted through the foliage, completely silent. Iruka was amazed he had spotted it.

A white rabbit. It stopped, as if feeling his gaze, and sharply turned to look at him.

Its red eyes watched him curiously. Then suddenly its head swiveled toward something and a simultaneous snarl erupted from the stray.

Iruka followed their attention and the world closing back in around him. He half expected another mountain witch.

He felt little relief when Yoroi pushed through the brush instead.

"Afternoon, Sakura-san." He placed his hand harmlessly on his sword.

The woods felt claustrophobic. The trees swallowed all sound. Iruka suddenly realized what a dangerous position they were in.

Sakura was miles ahead of him.

Sakura smirked, removing her crate and setting it aside. "This is a strange coincidence, Yoroi. What brings you to this isolated neck of the woods?"

"I know you have the book," he said. "Give it to me and we'll be on our way."

Iruka touched the book hiding in the folds of his kimono that Jiraiya had given him in a moment of temporary confusion. The misunderstanding was quickly forgotten when two more men emerged from the trees to join Yoroi.

Iruka's alarm bells were deafening and his pulse hammered fearfully in his ears.

Sakura knew the other men instantly. She took her wakizashi from her obi and unsheathed it. Iruka wanted to go to her, but he was afraid of making any sudden movements.

One man sporting an injured arm scowled at Sakura. She flipped the scabbard in her hand, ready to utilize it as a weapon if she had to.

"Back for more?"

The stray barked at the rear. Another two men had flanked them. They were surrounded.

"Don't be stubborn, Sakura-san." Yoroi gave an innocent shrug, "I'm trying to be nice."

The gang armed themselves, brandishing more than enough glistening blades to make Iruka's knees visibly shake. He kept the tip of his staff pointed down in front of him. A mountain witch would be a welcomed alternative, he realized. He'd almost prefer another possessed samurai. Almost.

Yoroi's passivity was paper thin. He wanted blood. "We just want the book. Things don't have to get messy. What do you say?"

She kept the scabbard extended ahead of her blade. "I say go fuck yourselves."

Yoroi took a single step and, without warning, the stray lunged at one of the men behind them.

As he screamed, Sakura dove for Yoroi. She knocked his blade down and launched him into one of his buddies with a heavy shoulder check, separating the trio. Iruka secured the division by rushing up to put his back to Sakura and took a wild swipe at his new opponent.

Yoroi's partner hacked at Sakura's head and their blades clashed loudly when she blocked him. She jabbed him in the ribs with her scabbard, earning a grunt from the man. She cast off his blade and thrust at him in return. He just managed to dodge her and a bloody line traced his neck.

With one man thoroughly occupied by the stray, the second flanking man turned his panicked attention on Iruka.

Iruka squared off against his two opponents as they rushed him together.

He gave a quick crack to the head of the one flanking. He then whirled his weapon to smack open the injured man's defenses and thrust into his chest, pushing him toward the other opponent.

He fumbled with the staff, changing his hand positions and putting as much of its length between him and them as he could—forcing them to make space. He was sure Sakura could hold her own, but a drawn-out fight wasn't going to end well for him. His staff was already threatening to shimmy free from his trembling hands.

Before he could react, the first man—clearly the more skilled than the other—slid his blade the length of Iruka's staff and parried it into the ground.

Iruka stumbled and received a sound kick on one of his bruises. He flung the staff up into position just in time as the injured man lunged. Iruka jammed it in the man's ribs and jabbed his foot awkwardly up, catching his attacker on the side of the head and knocking him to the dirt. Iruka stumbled as he landed, whirling to face his remaining opponent.

Sakura's blade dug between her enemy's ribs and stuck there. Yoroi dashed at her and she was forced to abandon it. Sakura grabbed his knife hand and they wrestled for dominance. Yoroi yelped painfully as the stray appeared out of nowhere and dug its teeth into his thigh. Sakura smirked at the dog and socked Yoroi hard in the jaw, ripping the knife from his grip in the process.

Before she could celebrate, Sakura was tackled to the floor by the fifth man, ripped bloody by the dog. She hit the ground, the breath rushing out of her, but she managed to stab the man in the back with her newly acquired weapon. He hardly winced. He took her head and slammed it hard into the ground. White spots flickered in her periphery. She curled to the side, pulled her arms into herself, then bashed his temple with her elbow. That did it. He slumped long enough for Sakura to get out from under him and onto her feet. She tore the knife out to stab the man through the neck just as he started to rise again.

Iruka's clumsier opponent came in with a hasty overhead slash. He instinctively snapped his wrist to knock the blade and keep the staff firmly in place. He jutted it forward, driving its end with all his strength under the enemy's chin with a resounding crunch. The man fell, gurgling.

Iruka felt a surge of confidence. When they got out of this, Sakura would owe him a serious explanation. And more than a few drinks. As soon as the thought passed, Sakura's blade chimed against another and she cried out, catching Iruka's worried attention.

His final enemy closed in while he was distracted and slipped behind Iruka's guard to stab at his gut. Iruka dropped the staff to catch the hilt of his attacker's weapon, but he couldn't stop it before the blade slid against his ribs—slicing through fabric and flesh alike. Iruka yanked the man into his knee, knocking the wind out of him.

Their weapons clattered against each other in the dirt. Iruka reflexively kicked them away, lest the man recover one of them.

Iruka's disarmed opponent recovered and danced with his fists up.

Iruka lifted his hands into a defensive position and all his confidence drained. He could whack them with a stick, but Iruka had absolutely no faith in his ability to fight hand to hand.

Blood soaked his side. He fought to control his breathing, and tensed when his opponent sprang close.

Meanwhile, Sakura clutched her freshly cut arm.

Yoroi donned a sword in each hand. "Come on, Sakura-san. We're not done yet."

Sakura finished ripping the sleeve off her torn kimono and wrapped the flat of her hand with it. In the other she took her scabbard. The stray crouched beside her at the ready.

Man, woman, and beast circled one another. Sakura shot forward parrying out his first stab with the scabbard. The stray's jaws were ready to lock onto the knocked hand. She blocked Yoroi's second sword with her bare arm.

Iruka jabbed with a shaky fist, only to be caught and twisted into a lock. His shoulder was wrenched from its socket and he felt the blood to his head being cut off. Iruka dug into the man and lifted him off his feet. Iruka charged blindly with the man hoisted on his back and they slammed together into a tree.

They rolled apart.

Iruka crumbled into the brush, head swimming.

His enemy fell onto his abandoned sword.

Yoroi's blade sliced along the bone of Sakura's forearm, but she stopped the weapon in her wrapped hand. She wrenched it from Yoroi's grip. Their eyes met as she held it high and stabbed it deeply into where his neck and collar bone met.

Metal grazed into the meat of Iruka's thigh. An alarmed cry escaped him.

The man knotted Iruka's hair in his fingers and towed him out of the brush. Iruka dug his nails into the hand, and he was clocked with the end of the blade's hilt.

"Enough!" The man shoved Iruka's face into the ground. "Say a prayer, Obou-san."

"Iruka!"

Yoroi's body slowly dropped to Sakura's feet.

She skidded in the dirt, seeking the traction to run toward Iruka.

The stray was already dashing. Its figure rippled.

The blade came for Iruka's throat.

Silver flashed.

The assailant's sword slid from his hand and hit the dirt beside Iruka's face.

Iruka stared up to a bloody knife protruding from the base of the man's neck. The body fell forward and revealed the fluttering blue fabric of a loose kimono. A seething red eye lingered on the fallen corpse. Loose strands of silver came to rest over a scar that carved through the man's eyebrow, down to the cheek.

The stranger winked that eye closed and breathed out his anger. Beautiful and terrifying rage.

He cast his concern on Iruka.

At the sight of Iruka, his hand tightened on a bloodied white tanto—the lightest colored metal Iruka had ever seen.

Sakura landed next to Iruka, tying a strip of ripped fabric around his thigh to stop the bleeding. She looked between Iruka's wounds and the stranger, utterly amazed.

Iruka struggled to understand what he'd seen. The man let out an amused huff at Iruka's dumbfounded expression.

Sakura checked his injured shoulder, feeling around it. "I have to put it back in."

The stranger knelt beside Iruka. "I didn't know you were one of those warrior monks, Obou-san." He put a hand on Iruka's forehead, encouraging him to rest into the ground, and brushed the hair out of his face. "You just can't stay out of trouble, can you?"

"Take a deep breath, Iruka."

He did so and as soon as he started to exhale, Sakura slid the ball back into his shoulder's socket with a pop. His racing thoughts were blown apart. Releasing into that sigh, the exhaustion he had ignored took over and his consciousness slipped.

* * *

...

Thanks for reading! See you next time!


	3. Killer Queen

Killer Queen

...

* * *

Iruka bounced with the even footfalls of who carried him.

Soft hair tickled his nose.

The first thing he saw as his eyes dazedly opened were the tips of feathers etched in ink. They curled out from under a kimono's smoothed collar. The light was dim, lulling him to fall deeper. The stranger's low timbre buzzed in Iruka's chest.

"He's awake, sensei."

Sakura zipped over, saying, "Put him down."

Reality descended upon him at the sound of her voice and Iruka tried not to be too sour about it.

The stranger bent to the ground and Iruka staggered off. With a jolt of pain, he remembered his injured leg. The stranger quickly caught him and helped him sit. Still groggy, Iruka brushed the helping hands off him.

As he settled, Iruka said, "I'm fine. It's not that bad."

Sakura grabbed his chin and pulled Iruka's face close, dragging him from his half slumber. "I'm the doctor here. I'll decide when you're fine." She yanked down his kimono, baring his chest and shoulders. "And what are these bruises everywhere!? They were not here when I checked on you last night and I know they're not from those goons. Except maybe this one!" She poked violently into his chest where he had been kicked.

As though someone had wrenched open the door to a darkened room, Iruka was suddenly completely and totally awake. "Ow! I'm sorry!" He moved to rub the tender spot but realized his arm was out of his sleeve and restricted by a makeshift sling. His shoulder ached.

Sakura's forearm was bandaged as well. He could tell it was causing her a lot of pain. Every move of her fingers was strained.

Despite the evening light, the rainbow of colors on Iruka's torso was very present. Sakura glared at him before undoing the dressing on his rib. He couldn't help turning red when his company noted the bite mark on his collar bone left by the crazed samurai.

She threw Iruka's kimono away from his legs. She would have flashed his fundoshi had he not caught the fabric first. Uncaring, she unwrapped Iruka's leg. The bleeding had stopped. She had stitched the cut shut and overlapped it with thin petals, the very same he had collected the day before. She delicately peeled them off and used new ones to pull the edges of the gash together as she applied them.

Iruka let himself appraise the stranger as she toiled away. He was just as Iruka remembered from the bar in the post town. He stood tall and stoic in a pale blue kimono that almost floated on his slender figure. His pale arms were crossed casually over his chest. He was masked now and had his pale silver hair tied up in a sloppy bundle. The tanto he had wielded in Iruka's defense was nowhere to be seen and the red eye was shut.

Iruka bumbled as he ogled the man, "Thank you for your help. If you hadn't shown up, I probably would have been—" The opened eye watched Iruka intently, almost mockingly. Iruka couldn't help but drift from one eye to the other, wondering if he had imagined the red eye all together. "Well, you know that, I guess. Your timing was really—"

Sakura layered a paste on his wound that stung and he hissed in a breath through his teeth. She wrapped the whole mess in new gauze and flopped his kimono to its original position.

Iruka fumbled back to the topic. "I mean, I didn't even see where you came from… What about y-your son. Did you leave him in the post town?"

"Son?" The stranger gave into his smirk. "What son?"

Something about that look was familiar. Iruka may have thought the stranger to be reproachful at first, but there was humor bubbling within. And the scar. Iruka knew that scar.

"I didn't think I'd make it in time. You're lucky I did."

Lucky didn't cover it. It had been impossible. Where had the man come from anyway? Iruka played those final moments before he lost consciousness over again, squinting at the stranger.

He had seen it himself. Sakura and the stray were the only living things close enough to save him. He remembered them both dashing toward him. The stray overtook Sakura before she even got her feet under her, intent on him. Iruka saw the creature's sealed eye open with seething, red fury. Then—

Iruka shook his head in disbelief.

"No… No, you can't be— That's not possible."

Iruka's dumbfounded expression was filling him with delight.

The crook of the man's eye crinkled, "What's not?"

Iruka could feel the blood draining from his face. Iruka gestured at the man with his good hand, glancing at Sakura. She gave him a withered nod of confirmation.

"The dog? He's the dog?"

The stranger's brows lifted smugly.

"I don't believe you."

"Really?" He openly laughed at him. "Well then again, you were gullible enough to get tricked by a spider witch. I shouldn't be that surprised."

Iruka's jaw dropped. The words slipped out before he could catch them.

"What… are you?"

The man's enthusiasm cooled and he mimicked insult.

"That's a little rude. You'd think asking someone's name would come first."

Iruka's voice croaked in his throat, but no coherent question formed.

"It's Kakashi." He answered instantly, mirth resurfacing.

Iruka repeated the name to himself, then returned, "I'm—"

"—Iruka, I know." His eyes trailed over Iruka as he added tersely, "You're quite a handful."

Iruka bristled. He was about fed up with the patronizing. Then the dots connected. The ever growing collection of embarrassing moments his raggedy companion had been privy to came to the forefront and his face flushed up to his ears. He sulked into his seated position, speechless.

Sakura finished and sat up from Iruka when her assessment was complete. "The flesh wounds should heal just fine if you take it easy. It's these bruises and cracked ribs I'm worried about! I'll have to treat them in Enten." She pointed at the sling. "And you are not to use this arm, do you understand?"

It took Iruka a moment to change attention from Kakashi enough to respond.

"Yes." Iruka bowed his head to her. "Thank you, again. I'm sorry to have caused you trouble."

Sakura held onto her lingering irritation for only a moment before yielding, "Don't apologize. It's… mostly my fault. I had a feeling they would come after us. I just didn't think there would be so many this time."

Iruka had noticeable concerns. "Will there be more?"

Sakura's gaze dropped to the dirt without an answer which did little to alleviate his fears.

Kakashi knelt with his back to Iruka and prepared to carry him. Iruka hesitated before timidly wrapping his good arm around the man's neck. Man, demon—whatever he was. Iruka tried not to be self-conscious as Kakashi's hand gently cradled his upper thigh to avoid further injuring his leg.

He draped onto the stranger's lithe figure like a ragdoll. It made him a little less insecure when the stranger stood and carried Iruka's weight with ease despite his size. Rather than be rapt by the man's natural strength, however, Iruka mentally credited it to supernatural ability. Of course a demon could carry a fail human male without much effort.

As they walked on, it was Iruka's turn to question Sakura. While his interest in their transformed companion was eating a hole in him, the threat of another life or death situation seemed more pressing.

"Why did Yoroi want the book anyway? I thought he was after your herbs."

Sakura's reply was surprisingly simple.

"The herbs are essentially useless without it. Especially the imported plants. You saw Shizune's place. She works mostly from memory. All the records and notes she has are kept in this book. Without it, they'd be stuck guessing and experimenting until they got their results."

"What did they want?" He rephrased, "Poison, I suppose. But what for?"

Sakura sagged a little and kept her focus on her feet. "Use it. Sell it. What does it matter?" Sakura produced the book in question from her kimono and flipped through it. "What if you want to someone to die from what looks like natural causes? Have their heart give out, deprive them of fluids, make them vulnerable to infection, or unable to eat." For a moment, Sakura drifted into a kind of admiration for Shizune's work. One intellectual to another. However, the clear misuse of the book's potential tinted her words with bitterness and frustration. "That kind of result takes precision and in-depth knowledge of the herb's effects. You can't imagine the discipline—the years of practice and testing it takes to reach that point."

A recollection cast its shadow across her and she rested her hand on the open page.

"It's harder to kill someone with poison than you might think," she said faintly. "If you have the wrong ingredients or the wrong combination, the victim could linger on for months before their body would eventually give out."

A knot wound itself tighter and tighter in Iruka's gut as the conversation ground to a halt.

Sakura slowly shut the book, closing off that line of thought.

"I would burn it if I could," her saddened smile returned, "but this is her life's work." She hid the book once more, regaining strength. "Once I know she's safe and all this is over, I'll return it."

Iruka hesitated even to say it. "Then there will be other people looking for it?"

Sakura walked on in silence, intentionally concealing her face. Iruka sighed, the tension breaking within him. He reached with his good arm to tug at her bag.

Sakura glanced back, full of shame.

"I'm sorry for getting you involved."

He consoled her, "It's alright, Sakura. We'll be okay. We just have to find a safe place for this book, right?" He gave her a wink, "No problem."

Sakura laughed weakly and rubbed beneath her eye.

He stretched to pet her head.

He said again, kindly, "We'll be alright."

Sakura blushed lightly—suddenly aware of how vulnerable she felt—and pointed along the path. "I think we're close. I'll… walk ahead to check."

She trotted off before Iruka could say anything more.

"She's lucky to have a father like you."

Iruka had momentarily forgotten he was being carried by a living person.

Iruka clambered to correct him, "I'm—She's—Do I look that old?"

"Relax, Obou-san. You'll hurt yourself," Kakashi chuckled, satisfied by the man's reaction.

Iruka continued, calmer this time, "I am not anyone's father."

"Well, that's a shame." The stranger hummed. The vibration went through Iruka. "You'd be good at it."

Unsure of the man's intention, Iruka sank down and resisted the impulse to counter with another fumbling response.

He watched her retreating silhouette and rambled quietly, "She's my student… or she used to be. They feel like your kids after a while." He quickly clarified, "It's not as hard as real parenting—I know it isn't, but it… it feels similar."

Kakashi simply smiled, "Is that so?"

Iruka fell into silence.

He couldn't remember saying that to anyone out loud before. It would have felt silly to say something like that to Bansai, who had practically raised him, but somewhere in his heart he had always thought that way. It felt a little late to be saying such a thing now, to a perfect stranger.

Iruka blamed it on fatigue. For a moment, he let the warm and comfortable back of this assumed demon to melt away his pain.

Then the stillness reminded him, "I haven't thanked you yet for saving me."

Kakashi peeked over his shoulder and corrected him.

"Twice."

Iruka winced. "T-twice." He was still rewriting memories of his shaggy companion with this man in mind. "I don't understand why you've gone so far to help me, but I appreciate it."

Kakashi moved his head to watch Iruka and said slyly, "The way you run headlong into trouble is hard to ignore."

That ignited another deep blush. Iruka opened and closed his mouth without refuting him. The man wasn't wrong, after all. Even in the best light, imagining Kakashi's first impression of him was humiliating.

They walked until the dirt path merged into the cart road. Iruka didn't realize how close they were to the city until the wooden walls rose high above them. The gate was immense. Atop the wall, lanterns were being lit to cast their glow over the warm wood.

Sakura was returning and ushered them to pick up the pace.

"They'll be shutting the gate soon. Get your papers out."

Iruka went suspiciously quiet.

Sakura knew better than to ignore his hesitation. She stopped in her tracks, and Kakashi almost crashed into her.

Her green eyes bore into him. "Umino-san. The temple gave you travel papers, right?"

He scrambled to think of an excuse, but he knew nothing could save him.

"Well…" Iruka grumbled. "No."

The woman was stunned to silence while Kakashi burst out laughing. Iruka would have swatted his head if he had a hand to spare.

Sakura was not as amused. "Umino-san. Where is your travel permit?"

He sniggered nervously, "I… don't have one? The monks didn't exactly know I was leaving…"

"What do you mean you—What!? Umino-san!—"

She was about to unleash her wrath when a low bell rang from the gate.

She couldn't be distracted now. Papers or no papers. "We have to get inside." She grabbed the front of Kakashi's kimono and pulled him forward.

The checkpoint was fast approaching and a handful of armed officials were there waiting. Their numbers had Sakura shaking with nerves.

Sakura stopped them again. Her hand pressed into Kakashi's chest.

She stared straight ahead, watching the guards, as the idea came to her. "Change into a dog."

"What?"

She faced Kakashi with an unrelenting scowl. "Turn. Into. A dog."

"Why should I?" The stranger scoffed.

Her head twitched, eyes glinting. "Do you have a permit?"

Kakashi lifted an impish brow.

"That's what I thought." She motioned at the checkpoint, "There's no way I'll get two grown men in without papers. Especially you." She pointed an accusatory finger at him.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

She gestured to all of him, groping for words.

He was insulted now, "What?"

"Shady! You look shady." She hissed, "Hurry up!"

"It's not a parlor trick." Kakashi huffed. "Besides, they've probably already seen us. What will they think if one of us just disappears?"

She snagged the edge of his kimono and jerked him close. "Turn into a fucking dog."

He groaned audibly and let Iruka down.

Like light on water, there was a glimmer. His clothes shifted on him like smoke. When the ethereal veil reformed, a pint sized Kakashi pouted before them. He pulled the scarf that had manifested around his neck over his already masked chin.

Iruka's ears burned with rage as the pieces fell into place. He was genuinely glad there hadn't been an actual child hanging off the sill of the hotel balcony earlier that day. All the same, he could barely contain the urge to strangle the fake urchin.

His childish pipes rang with annoyance. "Happy?"

The anger vanished in an instant and Iruka choked on a snicker, earning him a vexed frown from the small boy.

"Yes. Now. Try to look like you're in pain, Umino-san. And stay quiet! I'll handle this."

That wouldn't be too hard. Sakura gave Iruka his staff and he staggered behind her.

"Hey! Help us! Someone's been hurt," she called to the guard as she ran ahead.

The boy held Iruka's good arm and moved consciously to avoid hitting his injured leg. He labored under Iruka's weight.

"Please!" Kakashi cried pitifully, "Help Obou-san!"

Iruka narrowed his eyes at the adorable, deceitful little scamp. He couldn't believe he had ever fallen for it.

They came into the light of the checkpoint in time to hear Sakura's explanation.

"Obou-san is on his pilgrimage to the shrine and he agreed to escort me. But we were attacked. They stole our money and his permit." She produced her merchant's permit from her kimono in perfect damsel-in-distress form. "I managed to keep mine."

They scanned between Sakura and Iruka. Then down to Kakashi.

"And the boy?"

Iruka mechanically put his arm around him. "He is… my… pupil."

A vein throbbed on Sakura's forehead at his sad contribution.

Now suspicious, one of the guards reached for her pack. "We'll have to inspect your inventory."

"No, don't—"

She grappled with him as he attempted to pull the pack off her.

"I'm sorry, ma'am."

"—Wait!"

"It's policy—"

Sakura reluctantly pushed another document on him.

"That isn't necessary."

The official grabbed it roughly and unfolded the papers. The second official joined in and they both went pale as they reviewed it.

He pointed at the paper carefully, as if he were afraid to touch it, "This seal is…?"

Sakura grimaced. "From Tsunade-sama. I'm one of her employees. This monk was injured protecting Tsunade-sama's merchandise."

The guards took a moment to confer before stamping Sakura's permit and ushering them inside the city limits.

"I'm sorry for the trouble, ma'am."

One helpfully called after them, "Would you like an escort to Tsunade-sama? There's been some trouble lately—"

"Thank you very much, but there's no need!"

They passed into the shadow of the great gates as they creaked shut behind them.

Sakura led them in the dim streets. Iruka was limping badly and Kakashi had to fight to keep him steady.

Iruka couldn't help but glance around fearfully. "I wonder what they meant by trouble. Maybe we should have let them take us—"

"I'm sure it's nothing out of the ordinary. Besides, we're not going to Tsunade."

The boy grumbled between them, doing his best, "This body is useless." His clothes shifted as he prepared to transform.

"Not yet," Sakura whispered. She kept her quick pace. "They may still be watching."

His lingering concerns aside, Iruka cheered their small victory. "That went well, didn't it? I thought for sure they'd stop us."

"Getting you in isn't the issue." As they walked deeper and deeper into the city, Sakura's mood was darkening. "You really think they'll let someone walk out of this city undocumented?"

"Why not…?"

"What would you think if someone tried to leave your city without having any record of who they are, what they were doing here, or where they're headed?"

Iruka made an effort to not look stumped.

Sakura smiled patiently at his ignorance. "Most likely, they've been up to no good and they're running from something."

"Oh… Right."

"Don't worry, Umino-san. I'll figure something out."

The buildings were packed tightly onto one another. They towered above and blocked out whatever moonlight escaped the overcast night.

Sakura led them into a part of the city Iruka had never been to himself, but instantly recognized from what stories had ventured to the mountain.

They came out of the row of dark structures and were greeted by hundreds of paper lanterns crisscrossed between buildings. Their red hue cast a provocative spell, spilling out and making the air itself glow. A great red torii gate entreated the outside world to come in—to join the drink and festivities within.

They stepped onto a glossy cobblestone road that paved the way into Enten's famous pleasure quarter, a city in and of itself.

Even at first glance, Iruka knew the floating world was capable of all it promised. It unfolded for men and women who sought satisfaction in any form. Night and dreams could meld together. Music and enticing smells wafted out. Breathing it in ignited temptation in every passerby. All were nameless, classless, and free to indulge.

Iruka was awestruck by the illusionary scene.

The child snickered at Iruka's naïveté, but his intrigue was just too genuine to be wounded. Reflected in Iruka, it was an ephemeral work of art.

The view didn't last. Sakura quickly steered them into an obscured alley.

Slatted fences lined the gaps between buildings. Light from within cast striped shadows on the trio as they wove through the hidden maze. Song and conversation prattled mutedly at a distance. They snuck past the carnival and eventually came upon a man-made stream. Over the wall was a modest building. The outer windows were already dark. Sakura confirmed there were no witnesses in the alley, then stepped into the water and lifted a section of slats. The secret door gave them just enough room to slip inside.

The small Kakashi took Iruka's hand and guided him through the creek. Sakura closed the gate and showed them to a ladder secured flatly to the side of the building, concealed by budding blue ivy. Sakura removed her shoes and scaled it with familiar ease. She opened the window at the top, slightly at first to check the interior. With impressive dexterity, Sakura hoisted the massive trunk on her back with one arm. Iruka was positive it wouldn't fit, but she slipped it into the window handily as if she had done it a thousand times before.

Then she crawled in and out of sight. Her pink hair popped out a moment later and she beckoned Iruka.

Iruka shed his mud caked geta. It was difficult to climb with one arm, but not impossible.

The hustle and bustle of the street echoed weakly around the buildings. He couldn't see much aside from the hint of beautifully painted paper umbrellas shielding flirtatious laughter. Why they were sneaking around in the pleasure quarter in the first place was far beyond Iruka's understanding. A few weeks ago, the possibility would have sounded ludicrous.

He made it over halfway when he tweaked his injured leg. His good foot slipped, but he was pinned from behind before he truly fell.

A deep voice came close to his ear, "Be careful, Obou-san."

Adult-size Kakashi pressed Iruka into the rungs of the ladder. The man gave Iruka a sturdy arm to hold while he regained his footing. Iruka muttered a sheepish thank you. That was another impossible thing Iruka still hadn't had time to process.

Iruka made it up the last stretch without further difficulty and clamored inside.

The room was pitch black. Iruka wisely sat out of the way before he could injure himself, hoping Sakura would find some kind of light. Kakashi strode in without caution and knocked into something, toppling it with a loud thump. Sakura immediately smacked him on the head and they listened in silence for someone coming to investigate.

When no one did, Sakura let out a breath of relief. She slid the room's door open just a crack to let the amber light pour in from the hall.

From what little Iruka could see, they were surrounded by stacks of crates of every size holding various delicate goods. Glass and porcelain trinkets, vases and other ornamental items all meant for fall and winter décor. Stacks of thick fabrics were gathered near the door and there was a collection of heavy winter duvets in the corner.

Kakashi spoke to her in a raspy whisper.

"Where are we?"

"My bedroom." She shuffled through what Iruka assumed was a set of drawers at the wall. "Well, it's supposed to be, but I'm never here." She found what she had been digging for and threw it at Iruka. "Hold these."

It was a bundle of wide banded wraps. Iruka cringed.

Kakashi wandered and hit his head on some plants hanging from the ceiling to dry. Their leaves rained down.

Sakura's head snapped to him. He put up his hands, "Sorry."

She produced three teacups, but no pot. "Ugh, damn it." She gave up searching and grabbed a few things from her pack. She thrust some shriveled roots into Iruka's hands. "Chew on these for a while, Umino-san."

Iruka did so and scrunched his nose at the bitter taste. She stripped the top half of his kimono to scrutinize his chest wound and shoulder. Then she employed Kakashi's help to tightly wrap his torso with one band of fabric. With the second one they strapped his arm and shoulder into place. He could scarcely move. It was meant to prevent swelling overnight, but that knowledge didn't make it any more comfortable.

When she was content with her handiwork, Sakura slipped out the door and into the hallway. "I'll get us some things from downstairs. Do not step outside this room." She pointed harshly between them and enunciated, "Do. Not."

She closed them in and they listened to her tip-toe down a set of stairs. The minute they could no longer hear her, Kakashi went for the door.

Iruka grabbed the tail of his kimono. "Wait! She just said—"

He was smirking beneath the mask. Kakashi took hold of Iruka's hand and helped him stand. "Come on. We'll be quiet."

He slowly slid open the door, spreading the warm light across the floor and casting their shadows on the window behind them. The tatami mat of their room ended at perfectly polished wooden floors. Every surface was spotlessly. Across the way, the door was gaping, inviting them to explore. They could see that the opposing wall of the room was open and had a railing overlooking the lower level.

Iruka lingered as Kakashi stepped into the hall.

Kakashi stuck his head into that room and lowered to the floor. He snuck to the railing and took a peek, then beckoned Iruka over, beaming.

He tentatively obeyed. The gleam coming from below drew him in.

Over the railing was a stunning enclosed garden. It held a promenade of blooming bushes and flower beds. A path wound through it alongside the same creek they had waded in earlier, twisting and turning among sapling trees and shrubs. Golden lanterns illuminated a bridge that led to a modest gazebo with room for two.

Iruka had never seen such splendor. The babbling water and sound of crickets almost made Iruka forget he was neck deep in the pleasure quarter of Enten.

The two sat close together, taking it in. He checked on Kakashi, who was observing the garden with nostalgia. He fit in naturally with the atmosphere. It was as if the stranger had found a piece of home in spectacle.

Kakashi propped an elbow on the railing, gazing out. "Welcome to Enten, Obou-san."

They gawked at the scene together, absorbed in their own thoughts.

Whatever the stranger was, Iruka couldn't help but think how painfully human he seemed now. Surrounded by the splendor, glowing with the warm light, this man was aching with forgotten sentimentality.

Iruka realized he was reaching for the man and stopped himself. The impulse startled him.

Kakashi met his watchful eye.

"What do you think?"

Iruka hid his hand, hoping the man hadn't noticed.

He couldn't help but smile at Kakashi's enthusiasm, "It's incredible."

The patter of excited feet and giggling brought Iruka right back.

From their spot, they could see the entrance to the building burst open. A group of young women were returning.

Before he could get a good look at them, Kakashi towed him to the hall and they dashed into Sakura's room, silently shutting the door.

They listened in the dark.

Sure enough, footsteps chased through the hall and past their door. Giggling all the way.

Before they could share a moment of relief, the door slid open with force and Sakura flung herself inside. She promptly tripped over the two men. Kakashi stifled a grunt as he was struck with some hefty object Sakura was carrying. They collapsed in a clump and Kakashi quickly shut them in with his foot. Iruka was about to say something when Sakura stopped him with a panicked touch.

Another set of footsteps sauntered by.

The white of Sakura's eyes widened in the dark.

The person paused by their room. Then walked to the door across the hall and closed it.

The girls' lively chirps came from somewhere within.

The woman outside shook the walls with her voice, "Hurry up and go to bed! Don't make me tell you again!"

Sakura was pale with fear, but the person walked on. Their footsteps faded.

When there was finally peace, the trio untangled themselves and Sakura showed them her spoils with an elated grin. She toted the object she had whacked Kakashi with—a cast iron kettle sloshing with water. Somehow she had managed not to spill it in the chaos. She also had a container of charcoal, and a set of long metal chopsticks.

Sakura laid it all out saying, "We'll have to find a different place to stay tomorrow, but we may as well enjoy ourselves tonight."

From somewhere in the room, she unburied a ceramic hearth and slid it to their corner. Iruka helped her light it and they fostered the embers until the room was illuminated with its kindling. Iruka adjusted the coals with the metal chopsticks.

Iruka didn't want to disparage Sakura's hospitality by asking, but he felt he had no choice.

"Haruno-sensei… What are we doing here?"

As the hearth came to life, her conflicted expression was illuminated. She sat the pot on the hearth to heat the water.

"I wasn't sure where else we'd be safe." She groused quietly, pulling her knees close to her chest. "I'm sorry, Umino-san. After what happened with Yoroi, I'm sure there will be people looking for me."

"Why not ask your boss for help?"

"I told you. She doesn't believe me." Sakura shook her head bitterly. "It's not just that… she and I haven't been on good terms for a while now. I don't know what she'll think if she finds out what I've been up to. And you do not want to get on her bad side."

Iruka sought to comfort her, "I'm sure it's not so bad. What's the worst she could do?"

"Oh, it wouldn't be pleasant." She waited for Iruka to laugh. When he didn't, she realized he was missing the joke. "Tsunade is a god of fortune. She could curse me with never-ending bad luck if she wanted." She reflected briefly, and amended, "From the state of things lately, maybe I'm already cursed."

"Your boss is… a god?"

Sakura nodded slowly and leapt into a contemptuous spinning of Tsunade's tale. "Oh, yes. Those who follow her prosper. Always wealthy, always happy." She gestured broadly, "The pleasure quarter is her kingdom. Merchants, artisans, criminals. It doesn't matter to her. Everyone is equal and everyone is welcome—" Sakura grimaced, "—so long as you play by her rules. If you don't, she can make your life in Enten hell on earth. She has enough connections that—on a whim—she could destroy your career, your reputation, everything. She could bury you." Sakura saw his uncertainty. "I suppose that kind of gossip wouldn't make it to Kurama-dera."

He ardently shook his head. He had heard that other beings like the land god existed, but to have someone confirm it was a little alarming. And to hear of them misusing their gifts in such a way was beyond concerning.

Sakura folded fully on her knees, muttering, "If I were smart, I'd go along with it."

Kakashi interjected, "Why don't you?"

Iruka had been so absorbed, he hadn't noticed Kakashi's reaction to the conversation. He was alight with recognition.

He knew this woman Tsunade, whoever she was.

Sakura thought it over before stating plainly, "I can't rely on someone else's strength forever. There's no worth in success if I don't attain it myself."

Kakashi crossed his arms with a pleased smile. "Well said."

She grinned proudly. "We'll see how things pan out. Though at the moment, I could use a little good fortune."

Kakashi laughed with her and Sakura's confidence seemed to return.

She quietly reached for Iruka, touching his injured shoulder and glancing over his other injuries. "It's my fault you're like this, Umino-san." She placed a hand on his knee. "I want to help you. I will help you. I've been thinking about who we can speak to about the Onryou. I have someone in mind, if I can just find him—"

"Don't worry about me. I trust you." Iruka pat her hand, a teacher once more. "Please, trust me too. Let me help however I can."

She sat apart but their hands stayed connected. His faith in her brought out a solemnness. It stopped her speech and kept her from meeting his eye.

Finally she said sadly, "Thank you, Umino-san."

His instinct was to ask what was really wrong. It was hard not to notice she was hiding something else from him, but it seemed too sensitive a topic to breach. Sakura had already given him a lot to think about.

Sparing them the silence, Iruka's stomach growled loudly.

Sakura sprang to life, "Oh! I have food!"

Sakura slung the sack from her shoulder and opened it. Kakashi shook with suppressed laughter as Iruka clutched his treacherous stomach.

Iruka glowered at the man, red faced.

Kakashi was a bundle of mysteries all on his own. His intellect was far beyond what Iruka would expect from a simple demon. It was apparent he had spent some time in Enten and was at least familiar with the "god of fortune". Iruka wanted nothing more than to interrogate him. For now, he would pack away the scraps of information he could in hopes of sating his ravenous curiosity.

Out from Sakura's bag came deep-fried tofu stuffed with rice and three steamed sweet potatoes. She left the divvying of food to Kakashi while she selected the ingredients for tea. The pot had simmered almost to a boil amid their conversation.

Kakashi sat aside his share of hot food and served Iruka. He could tell Sakura was hiding something more as well and observed her closely, as an animal would a potential threat.

Then she produced a box from her pack and his mood instantly changed. He scooted to her side without hesitation. It was a smoke box with a pair of pipes. Sakura handed one to Kakashi and let him skim through the herbs and varieties of tobacco she had available.

Iruka made himself useful and grabbed duvets for each of them from the corner. He sat them nearby for his companions, then made himself cozy.

Somewhere in the house, a shamisen and koto duet rang out. The shamisen's sharp notes cut through the walls while the smooth koto blended strings of scales together. The hidden trio expected aggressive protest from the female caretaker as the melodies traded back and forth but to their delight there was none.

She poured Iruka a cup. "Drink it slowly or you won't be able to sleep," she said. He knew from the smell that it was some kind of ginseng. "It'll help you heal."

Iruka went slack under the down blanket and had a few sips. It was warming up in their little haven so Kakashi cracked the window to let the evening breeze in. He leaned on the sill to look out and pulled down his mask to take the first drag of his pipe. Iruka could only just see smooth line of his jaw and the curve of his lip in the dark.

The smoke released smelled too sweet to be tobacco. The streams of it drifted throughout the room along with its subtle aroma.

Sakura took gulping bites of the still steaming potato and Iruka worked on one of the fried pouches of tofu. When they saw the other stuffing their faces, the two snickered together quietly.

Secrets or no, Iruka couldn't turn from a friend in need.

In the corner of this packed little room, lit only by the embers of their hearth, three strange companions enjoyed one another's quiet company.

* * *

The open window invited in the morning chill.

Iruka was the first awake, still in his position against the wall.

His dream of the past lingered with him. The heat of the fire still stung his skin. He had almost forgotten with all the excitement what was waiting for him when he closed his eyes at night.

He distracted himself by surveying the interior of their room now that it was finally lit well enough to do so.

The ceiling was covered in hanging plants. Behind the crates one wall was stacked with unused furniture and larger decorations. The more accessible wall sported drawers and shelves like those in Shizune's house. There were a few labeled bins, but Iruka could tell from where he sat that the labels were warnings but they did not explicitly identify the contents. That was probably Sakura's way to keep people from using them without her supervision. The shelves that didn't hold her medicines were crammed with extra vases. The last corner was filled with boxes containing pottery of varying shapes and sizes, swaddled and stored safely.

Something stirred on his leg and Iruka realized he wasn't alone.

A moppy head of silver rested in his lap.

Kakashi must have toppled over from the window in his sleep. He was scrunched up at Iruka's side, fighting the cold. Iruka drew Kakashi's abandoned comforter over him and pat it down tenderly. The mask was gone, forgotten in the night, and the tie containing Kakashi's hair had come loose and was now tangled there.

He decided to remove the thin cord from the knotted mess and got busy. The mask didn't seem necessary to Iruka. If the man really wanted to avoid recognition, he would have better luck staining his hair to a more acceptable color.

Finally the knot came free. He coiled the cord to put away, but—before he could—it dissolved into thin air.

Stunned—he studied his now empty hand, then Kakashi.

Iruka slumped into the wall. This little trip was taking years off his life.

Iruka took a lock of the man's hair in his fingers and twirled it. He wasn't even sure the person sleeping on him was real, or if he too would vanish in a wisp of smoke.

Iruka couldn't spot any lingering wrinkles on the man's face, though he had already grown accustomed to the subtle crow's feet that emerged when Kakashi smiled. There wasn't even a hint of hollowness in his skin, only the clean definition of his cheekbones. Overall, he was frustratingly ageless.

The scar over Kakashi's eye was an old wound. The line cut through his eyebrow, split the edge of his eyelid, and ended in the middle of his cheek. A thin, yet deep crease. Iruka was amazed his eye had been saved.

Then he saw it. A small black beauty mark below the corner of Kakashi's mouth. It went so strongly against Iruka's image of the man that he almost laughed. He moved to touch it, but stopped himself.

Instead he combed through Kakashi's light hair, releasing the tangles. When he finished he curled it behind Kakashi's ear. Parts of his stubborn bangs were sticking up and Iruka weighed them down with his hand but had no success in controlling them.

Kakashi burrowed closer and Iruka fought the urge to chuckle lest it wake him.

In the face of all reason, Iruka knew this was the stray he met in the forest. There wasn't a doubt in his mind.

Sakura curled close to the hearth, pulling his attention. The embers had long since died. The woman was entombed by her duvet with only her tousled pink hair flaring out.

He wasn't sure of Sakura's plan, but it was probably time to get going. He could to hear more movement in the building. If they didn't leave soon, they might be discovered.

He took the end of the silver hair and brushed it over Kakashi's nose. He kept tickling until Kakashi's brows furrowed. He paused and waited for Kakashi to relax before beginning again.

Kakashi blinked awake and took a moment to remember where he was. Then he saw the broadly grinning Iruka above him and gave a grumpy squint.

"Good morning," Iruka said cheerfully.

Kakashi resisted it at first, but the corner of his lip turned up. "Good morning."

Without warning, the door was thrown open.

Into the doorway stepped a woman in a sophisticated lavender kimono with an arm full of vases. Her pale blond hair was obscured almost half of her face. She was already halfway in before she noticed the two men huddled in the corner. Iruka instantly put up his good hand in surrender, but Kakashi didn't bother to react.

A vase dropped and shattered, jolting Sakura awake. At the sight of the sleepy woman, the blond went from pale shock to blazing rage.

Sakura rubbed her face and scanned the room until she landed on the woman in the doorway.

"Ino…?"

The blond started to bolt, but Sakura grabbed her legs and yanked her into the room. They crashed onto the floor and wrestled, vases bounced and cracked on the floor. Iruka was startled to see the mask had returned on Kakashi's face somehow. The man slowly sat up from Iruka's lap and they watched, wondering if they should intervene.

Ino tried to call for help, but Sakura held her mouth shut. "Wait, Ino! I can explain!" She pointed at the door. "Close it!"

Iruka quickly complied, avoiding the shattered vases.

Ino ripped Sakura's hand off, "What are you doing bringing men in here!? If Anko finds you, they're dead. We're all dead!"

Iruka and Kakashi glanced at each other. Iruka had assumed they weren't welcome, but Sakura had failed to mention death as a potential consequence for their unauthorized visit.

"We were just staying for the night, I'm sorry."

"Why didn't you go to a hotel!? Or the teahouse!?"

Sakura tightly shut her lips.

Ino broke free and scorned Sakura. "You're still avoiding Tsunade-sama, aren't you?"

Sakura ignored her and pleaded, "Come on, Ino. Look the other way. Haven't I done the same for you?"

They paused, at an impasse. Then Ino wagged an angry finger in Sakura's face.

"You owe me."

There were footsteps on the stairs.

Sakura made a show of her distress and Ino groaned.

"You two, hide!"

The women leapt into action. Sakura frantically cleared their picnic while Ino shoved Iruka and Kakashi into the far corner. The men's flurry of limbs tangled as they were buried under the duvets. Kakashi posed himself above to keep his weight off Iruka's injured body.

Iruka held his breath as the door opened.

"What's all this noise, Ino—Sakura!?"

Iruka instantly recognized the voice of the scary caretaker.

"Good morning, Anko-san… I'm back!"

The woman growled, "Don't give me that, _'I'm back'_. Where have you been!? What are you doing sneaking around my Okiya?"

An Okiya? Iruka and Kakashi went rigid. A geisha house. They were in a geisha house, filled with young apprentices and strictly guarded secrets. Even on Mt. Kurama Iruka knew men were not only unwelcome, but strictly forbidden from entering an Okiya. Punishment for trespassing would be at the discretion of whosoever ran the place. They could be killed on the spot and no one would bat an eye.

"I live here, though you wouldn't know it from the state of this room."

"We haven't seen you in months! You're place here has been forfeited, as far as I'm concerned."

They heard rustling fabric.

"Let go!"

"You're going straight to the teahouse." The woman oozed with devilish glee, "Tsunade will be so happy to see you! Ino, get her things. I'll meet you at the front."

They listened to Sakura's struggle fade down the stairs.

When the women were gone, light feet pattered over to the pile and Ino tore off the covers.

Ino helped Iruka stand and fetched his staff. "You have to get out of here before the rest of the house wakes up."

"Why help us?"

Ino rolled her eyes. "You're not the first man to sneak in." Ino drew her bangs behind an ear and clacked her teeth in anger. She addressed Sakura's pack as if it was her representative. "Though I was never stupid enough to bring in two at once!"

She wrenched up the massive crate by its straps but it didn't budge. She elected to drag it to the door instead, which took all her strength.

"If you go now, you might make it. I'll draw their attention."

She disappeared out the door with the massive pack skidding on its wooden feet behind her. Iruka feared for the beautiful floor.

Kakashi opened the window cautiously. He and Kakashi peered at the garden to find it still empty.

They dropped Iruka's staff in the grass, then waited. No one came.

As Iruka swung a leg over the sill, there was a terrifying crash that sounded oddly like Sakura's pack taking a destructive tumble down the stairs.

They heard Sakura scream, "INO! What did you DO!?"

The two men scurried down the ladder and grabbed their belongings. They darted to creek and splashed toward the secret gate.

Iruka was about to celebrate their escape when Kakashi grabbed his sleeve and pulled him into a sprint down the alley. He struggled to keep up, his leg throbbing. He glanced to see a woman armed to the teeth coming around the corner. She spotted them instantly and gave chase. She called out for the other guards as she did and two more burst into the alley.

They were almost to the end of the corner when the wound on Iruka's thigh split open and he let out a cry. Kakashi came to a halt and his loose hair swept around his shoulders. He steadied Iruka, then squared himself between them and the oncoming women. He opened his hand and light smoke drew together out of nothing. The white tanto came into being as he closed his hand around it.

Kakashi was locked on them, red eye wide and ready.

Iruka grabbed Kakashi and pleaded. "Stop! That'll only make it worse." The hostility turned on Iruka for an instant and he felt a chill. Still Iruka did not give in, "Kakashi. Stop."

The unsettling malice in his eye dissipated and he let Iruka push down his weapon.

The guards caught up as Kakashi stowed the blade.

They took Iruka's staff and patted Kakashi's sides but could find no weapon. Iruka imagined it had likely pulled a similar trick as Kakashi's hair tie.

Kakashi's wrists were bound, but he was indifferent to it. Iruka was sure Kakashi could break free of them any time he wanted. The guards noted Iruka's incapacitated arm and left him untethered. Iruka felt Kakashi's stare and he guiltily shrugged at the blatant difference in treatment. With a sigh, Kakashi resigned himself to captivity.

"If you resist, we'll kill you."

Kakashi smiled playfully, "You can try."

Iruka elbowed him. "Settle down. We'll be fine."

They were escorted through the alley and to a guarded gate that emptied onto the bustling street. They heard Sakura's enraged cries and spotted her at the front of the Okiya. She was being hoisted off the ground by a muscular woman. She kicked her legs at Ino and who they assumed to be Anko.

One of the women knocked Iruka from behind when he lagged. He took a heavy step on his injured leg and staggered. Kakashi supported him as best he could and cast his deadly red glare at the guard.

When they reached the gathering crowd, they were turned over to Anko. She wouldn't have been so intimidating in her casual kimono if it weren't for the violent looking ornaments used to pin up her pitch black hair. They were more like trophies of war than accessories. Their metal tails clicked together at the snap of her head. The open maliciousness in her smile wasn't very reassuring either.

Sakura saw the two men and fresh fury washed over. She kicked ferociously at Ino, her kimono flapping wildly.

Sadistic joy bubbled in Anko. "Not one, but two men. Tsunade is going to throw a fit." The murderous intent rolled lovingly to Sakura, "I think this is the end of the road for you, even if you are her favorite."

They marched in the middle of the street. The procession was swarmed by gossip mongers. Occupants of the restaurants and shops all watched as they passed.

In daylight, the spell of the pleasure quarter was broken. By all appearances it was no different than any other city street. All the glamor and flare had been packed away. Peddlers and humble pedestrians were all that populated the road now.

The group came to where a large block of land in the middle of the district had been raised. They trudged up wide stone steps. Unlit stone towers distinguished their path. When they reached the top, the largest building in the quarter revealed itself.

It was not a teahouse. Not by any standard definition.

Framed by two perfectly sculpted trees, the building stood four stories tall with a sweeping roof. Unlike any of the surrounding buildings, the wood was not painted. It would be of a modest design, if not for its sheer size. The top three floors had balconies that wrapped around. Each level was protected by the layers of dark teal roofing. The right side of the building's first floor was blocked from view by the walls of an enclosed garden with the hint of flowering trees rising out of it. This garden wrapped around the right and back of the teahouse while the left of the building butted up to a gated storehouse where deliveries of food from nearby restaurants were bring received.

On the floors above, Iruka could see a handful of women spying them with interest, partially hidden by the railings and wood paneled doors meant to bar the elements.

The group walked up to the entrance, pushing through the long noren curtains.

What awaited them captivated Iruka instantly.

The center of the building was open up to the ceiling. The stairs cut the corner from one floor to the next at an angle, creating a great angular spiral up. The structural beams wove diagonally across and throughout like a basket. The wood was painted a piercing red, in stark contrast to the simple exterior. The main floor to the right was clear all the way to the garden, interrupted only by the dark vertical support beams. The sleek wooden floor reflected the morning light.

There in the distance sat two women. One on her knees, head lowered. The other on a thin cushion with her legs hanging off the edge of the floor. She surveyed the garden and took a drag from her pipe.

Her red ocher obi was folded over to make a square shape and decorated with small repeating symbols on a wave-like nami pattern. The fabric of her long sleeved kimono was a gentle yellow. Her hair, nearly the same color, was drawn tightly into a formal arrangement with two carved prongs protruding from it.

Standing in the garden before the women was a fearful, dirt-dusted man clutching a very young girl.

His voice echoed faintly in the overwhelming openness.

"She's a good girl, she'll work hard."

Tsunade spoke through a cloud of smoke as she scanned a document her assistant provided.

"Then why don't you keep her?"

The man fidgeted, gripping the child's shoulders and making her wince. The filth on his nails made them almost black.

"We can't feed her."

"We're not in a famine, last I checked." The woman refused to look at him. She clacked her pipe on the edge of her smoke box, freeing the ash.

Anko brought Iruka's group closer but kept to the outskirts of the meeting.

"My wife takes expensive medicine. We can barely afford to stay in our home."

The woman paused. "I see. Is she unhealthy? Is she unable to work?"

He sputtered, "N-no, no. She works."

Patiently Tsunade packed a fresh pipe and lit it. "And you? Do you work?"

The man turned a dark shade of red. Sweat glistened on his grimy forehead.

"There are plenty of jobs available, if you're willing to make the effort." She took a drag. "If you think your daughter is worth it."

"Tsunade-sama, the girl will serve you well." The man lifted the girl's face by her chin. "She's a fine girl, see? She takes after her mother. Her-… her mother was beautiful in her youth, absolutely beautiful."

"Yes, and I hear she's wasting away these days. Working herself to the bone."

"She is, she is."

"Such a shame. All for her medicine, you say?" Tsunade sat down the paper and turned more fully to inspect the father and daughter. "That's interesting. From what I've heard, it isn't your wife that's sick." The woman grew disturbingly cold. "It's you."

There was a second where the man didn't understand what she had said. Then he started shaking, clenching his fingers into the girl's shoulders.

"And it's not medicine you take, is it?"

He pivoted, dragging the small girl as he attempted to leave.

She thumbed through something in her sleeve and called out, "How old is the girl?"

He stopped dead. Then he stammered, "F-five—"

Without a hint of hesitation, the woman threw something at him. Five ryo glinted in the morning light and scattered in the grass at his feet.

"This should compensate you for bearing the burden of a child for so long. I'll take the girl off your hands. We will arrange housing for her and your wife."

"M-my wife?"

"Your wife works for me now." The assistant offered a brush, freshly inked. Tsunade took it and lifted her sleeve as she wrote on the man's paper. The assistant provided a book of records for Tsunade to make a note in as well. "If you contact her for money again, I will know about it."

She then produced a silver seal from a hanko case. She moved without any sense urgency, as if to purposefully infuriate the impatient man whose fate now rested in her hands. She dabbed the seal in a dish of red ink and stamped the paper. She wiped it clean on a cloth and stowed it. When she finished, the younger woman bowed her head and withdrew with the materials.

Referring to the money, "That should be more than enough for you to drown your sorrows."

The ritual seemed to steal the man's voice from him.

The assistant stepped down from the wooden floor and onto a stone step. She extended the paper to the man, and her hand to the child. The girl, budding with tears, took the offered hand and tottered to the assistant's side.

The man snatched the paper and dropped to his knees. Wild with twisted delight, he dug in the grass to collect his prize. Without a single backward glance to his child, he skittered out of sight.

The little girl clutched the young woman's hand.

Tsunade addressed her in dominating voice. "We'll get you cleaned up and you'll be shown your work. This will be your home until a more suitable place is found for you." The child's eyes grew wide, but Tsunade's tone changed to something smooth and reassuring. "And for your mother, of course. You'll be together again once she's recovered."

The little girl's face went bright red as tears plopped from her big eyes. The assistant hoisted her up onto the wooden floor and she was lead to a private room.

Tsunade prepped her pipe once more as she addressed the spectators without turning.

"Come in, Anko."

Anko brought them close and the guards forced them to their knees. Their faces were pushed into the floor in a prostrating bow. When Kakashi resisted, the guard pressed his head into the wood with her foot. Anko opened her mouth to relay the charges, but was cut off.

"I've already heard everything." Tsunade put the tobacco over the coal within an incense burner until it lit. "So has half the quarter." In one smooth phrase, she gave her chilling reproof. "I'm not sure why you thought it necessary to make such a spectacle, considering it was your negligence that brought about this situation in the first place."

Silence hung in the air.

"I'm sorry, Tsunade." Anko fumbled for words, "If I had found them myself, I would have—"

"—Killed them on sight, I know how you are."

For the first time, Tsunade's cryptic gaze dissected them. In the middle of her forehead was a violet diamond shaped tattoo. Iruka stared at the mark in disbelief. Was the owner of this prestigious teahouse—the god of fortune—a former criminal? She gave off too regal an air for that, he thought, but the mark was unmistakable.

He thought Tsunade had a flicker of recognition at Kakashi, but her pinpoint focus fell on Iruka instead. She took in his robes as if she had never seen a monk before.

Her painted lips formed a perfectly polite smile. "It's fortunate that you didn't."

"Tsunade, you don't plan to let them go, do you—?"

"Leave us, Anko. You've done your part in this. To excess, even."

Anko stepped forward, "You can't show this kind of favoritism, Tsunade. They cannot go unpunished."

"Untie them," she ordered, absently pulling a drag.

The guards hesitated for only a second before quickly undoing Sakura and Kakashi's wrists. Anko was fuming.

They sat upright. Kakashi rubbed blood back into his hands and Sakura checked her injured forearm. Beaded sweat on her forehead displayed the pain she wanted to conceal. When her gaze met Tsunade's, Sakura hotly glanced away.

Tsunade's controlled expression slipped and there was a wily twist in her smile. She curbed the display immediately. Considering how everyone else's eyes were downcast out of fearful respect, Iruka doubted many would have caught the moment.

Tsunade glided to Anko.

"I understand your pride has been wounded, but do you really think Sakura would sneak two men into the Okiya to hurt our girls?" She took another drag. "We shouldn't make mountains out of molehills."

"This is a great offence, regardless of her intent! Tsunade—"

The woman's aura became intense. Iruka's hair stood on end as if the room had been charged with static. His heart lumped heavily against his ribs. "You are dismissed, Anko. Take your people and go. There's been too much ruckus for so early in the day."

Anko, utterly defeated, escorted herself and her guards out.

Without them, the room felt immense.

She stated her emotionless inquisition. "A little bird at the gate told me a merchant of mine passed through last night. When no one came to see me right away, I should have known it was you."

Iruka was preparing for the worst when Tsunade's well-mannered mask vanished in an instant. Her face split into a wide smile.

She held her pipe in her teeth as she said, "It's been a while, Sakura. You look terrible." She sat, tucking her kimono under her folded legs, and pat the ground. "Come sit by me."

Sakura grumbled.

She slapped the ground again. "Don't fuss. Get over here."

Sakura grudgingly stood and took her place beside Tsunade.

The woman welcomed her, then cringed. "Ugh, you need a bath. You are absolutely filthy." She touched all over the woman, checking her, tugging on her clothes. "What is this supposed to be? What happened to the kimono I gave you?"

"Merchants don't wear silk."

Iruka was floored by her abrupt familiarity. They were mother and daughter, fretting and bickering. All trace of Tsunade's intimidating power had disappeared.

She swept at Sakura's shoulder and dust lifted off. "You're my merchant. You can wear whatever you want." She scrutinized the bandage on Sakura's forearm. Sakura tore it out of reach before Tsunade could touch it.

Tension flared at the rejection. Tsunade's fingers lingered in the air, outstretched for Sakura's wound.

"Don't touch me."

The seconds ticked by without clear reprieve, but then Tsunade retracted.

She pouted playfully, as if the exchange had never happened. "You're a complete mess, Sakura. This is what you get for playing in the woods too long."

Sakura scowled without a hint humor, "Yoroi did this."

She scoffed in return, "Shizune's guard? Don't be ridiculous."

"He tried to kill me. And the monk."

Iruka cut in reflexively. "It's true!" He bowed deeply, "Excuse me."

Iruka had the god of fortune's renewed attention. He could feel her staring.

Tsunade hummed, "Is that so." She took note of Iruka's clothes. "What temple are you from, Obou-san?"

He answered calmly, "Kurama-dera."

She wasn't convinced. "That's pretty far, isn't it? What brings a monk from Kurama-dera to Enten?"

Iruka was so nervous he nearly bit his tongue. "I-I'm on my pilgrimage to the Inari Shrine and I've come to pay my respects to the Daimyo's son." His stuttering lessened when he told the simple truth, "I've known Haruno-sensei for many years. When I ran into her, we decided to travel together."

She considered this as she burned through her tobacco in a heavy inhale. "Fine, I'll bite." She twirled her fingers, insisting, "Explain."

Iruka looked up, doubtful that she was speaking to him, but Tsunade's piercing eyes were waiting. He raced to answer her, terrified of what another moment of hesitation would do.

"I was with Haruno-sensei when she met her supplier," he said. "We were on the road to Enten when a group of men attacked us. They were led by one of the guards we met—Yoroi. There's no mistake." He strained to read Sakura's reaction. He wasn't sure what he should omit. "They… They were after…"

Sakura was more than ready to take over. "Yoroi had been stealing from Shizune ever since you assigned him. He was being paid to. But they need a book containing Shizune's research. With it, even a layman could make an effective poison—"

At that word, Tsunade rolled her eyes. "Not this again. Is this why you deserted us? To pursue your baseless conspiracy?"

Sakura shrank beside the woman, a soldier chastened by her commander.

Her voice, however, stayed strong, "It's not baseless and you know it. When they thought I had the book, they came after me."

"Where's the book now, then? Hmm?"

Tsunade sat apart, gauging Sakura's expression. Sakura only shrugged.

She stared at the ground, as if trying to puzzle it out herself. "Shizune hid it somewhere. They assumed she gave it to me after I saw her. I just hope she put it somewhere safe."

Iruka was shocked by the lie. He was glad he hadn't said anything more.

Sakura continued, her true intension showing itself, "Yoroi was working under someone else before you hired him, wasn't he?"

Tsunade knew instantly that this was Sakura's goal and a thin veil drew over her. There was a subtle pause as Tsunade lounged in her seat, tapping her pipe on the tray again. She had all the air of a deity facing a conversation that displeased her, one with the fate of the world sitting securely in her lap.

She dodged with a smirk. "I assume you killed Yoroi, so what does it matter now anyway?" She wagged her hand nonchalantly, "I'll send some new people to Shizune. Let it go."

"It won't matter if we don't find out who's behind it."

Tsunade laughed, "They already found the culprit, Sakura. The man confessed—"

"—in a suicide note that anyone could have written. He was set up. Anyone with half a brain knows that." She persisted, begging, "I've been tracking these people for weeks. We know the herbs they used for the poison were rare—foreign. As soon as I started investigating Shizune, they tried to get rid of me. I never expected it would be someone so close to us, but that means that we might find a connection. Something that will lead us to the people responsible—"

Iruka felt it. An ethereal air had awoken. An oppressive wave of energy rolled off Tsunade. It filled the room, pressing in on them. It made Iruka's head spin, but he held on as best he could.

Was this the power of a god?

Sakura rose against it and smacked her hand on the wood. "Yoroi was guilty, but I know someone is still pulling the strings. Please, help me find them." The woman Iruka had seen in the post town reared her head. Whatever habituated submission had inhibited her before thawed into unyielding resolve. "They're going to do it again. I can't just stand by! Whoever Yoroi worked for could be involved!"

Tsunade's icy tone cut through. "Be careful, Sakura."

The ripples of Tsunade's anger stirred instinctual fear. Iruka found himself gripping his knee, trying to keep steady.

Sitting beside the terrifying woman, at the center of the torrent, Sakura held firm. "I don't care what happens to me, I won't be complicit in this."

Tsunade had run out of patience. Her eyes were stony as she leaned in.

"Asuma was a fool."

His name hit Iruka like freezing water.

Tsunade's words dragged, like a dull knife twisting in his ear.

"That's what got him killed."

The world sank into a fog. Their voices rang in his ears.

"Keep your head down, Sakura." She added with biting callus, "Don't make the same mistake he did."

Iruka reeled.

His suspicious wound together, suffocating him. He wanted to scream. To go back kill Yoroi himself. He fought an eruption of emotion as he remembered Shizune's apology for what he had yet to understand.

Truly sorry, she had said. Crippled by her guilt. She told him she was truly sorry and now he knew she had meant it.

Even so, he hunted for another answer. A different truth.

He lifted his sunken head to Sakura.

She was waiting for him with a face flushed with regret.

Tsunade's cold mask was uncompromising. "I've had enough of this. You're in no place to be making demands of me. I should imprison you for helping these men trespass. As for them," Tsunade said, standing. "After all the fuss, some public punishment would be best, don't you think?"

She turned on her socked feet and went to Iruka and Kakashi. Up close, Iruka noticed the detailed figures repeating on her obi. A frog, slug, snake, and rabbit. Swimming in the red waves of the pattern. Their simple shapes taunted him. They danced on the peaks without a care while his own thoughts drowned him. His ignorance was a bitter taste he couldn't purge.

She took hold of Iruka's chin as she appraised him, though he couldn't feel it. "I can't flog the monk, I suppose, but I'm sure Anko would be satisfied if I removed an ear or two." Iruka didn't have the energy to fight her as she turned his head. Then she stopped to take in Kakashi's severe gaze. "You're being awfully quiet. Don't you have anything to say?"

Kakashi, who had been taking in the scene in silence, was radiating with hostility.

"What's there to say? You haven't changed, Tsunade." His diction was biting. "Full of empty threats, like always. Especially when you're about to ask a favor."

She reflected his malevolence with mocking, "That's 'Tsuande-sama' to you, mutt. Or have you been an animal so long you've forgotten your manners?"

Thunder rumbled and drove Iruka from his thoughts. The sunlight in the garden was blotted out by shadow. Between Tsunade and Kakashi, he could feel a current growing. The ferocity of Tsunade's presence was being blown aside.

"I didn't think wandering gods kept company." She glared down her nose, her painted lips curling.

Iruka's skin prickled. The wind changed and the silky swirling around Tsunade was sucked in, like the pull of a storm with Kakashi at its center. The burr in Iruka's chest throbbed as the clouds outside thickened. Darkness descended over the teahouse.

Iruka shared his reaction with a slack-jawed Sakura.

Kakashi's eye crinkled in its usual way with all the appearances of civility.

"Do you have a problem with that?"

The mortals in the room felt themselves diminish.

"That depends entirely on you and your motives for being back in my city."

"Back?" There was a flash of uncertainty, but he pressed on with unremitting intensity. "As far as you're concerned, I'm a tourist."

Thunder rumbled and tension stretched thinly between them.

She sneered, "Why should I believe you?"

Tsunade was wavering, her accusations held less mettle.

Kakashi could sense this. He was almost joking now, "What can I say? It was lonely on my own. You can't blame me for getting bored and making a few friends."

His flippancy matched Tsunade's image of the man much more soundly and it curbed her bite. Still, she glowered at the clouded sky.

"One raincloud after another." As if on cue, the thunder grumbled. She shot a blaming glare at Kakashi, "First the Onryou, now you. It's bad for business."

Kakashi it deflected effortlessly, confident in how the tide had turned.

"You've lost your touch if a little bad weather is all it takes to shut you down."

Tsunade diffused into a chortle and the force around her lightened along with it.

Kakashi followed her lead and leaned away. The electricity of his presence dissipated.

Iruka released the breath he didn't realize he had been holding.

Remembering their original conversation, Tsunade stepped over to Sakura and knelt before her. She extended a hand naturally toward the woman's cheek, but then hesitated, expecting another harsh reaction. When Sakura didn't flinch, Tsunade rested her hand there. She thumbed across Sakura's cheekbone fondly as if wiping a spot of dirt.

"Sakura. I just want you to be safe."

Sakura pressed her fists into her legs. "Then help me."

Tsunade sighed, "You're so stubborn." She released her and laid out Sakura's sentence. "You will not leave the teahouse without an escort. If I hear any more about this conspiracy of yours, I really will lock you up, do you understand?" Before Iruka could catch up, Tsunade was addressing him. "You're far from home, little monk. I'll forgive you for not knowing any better. However, there is something you can do for me as compensation." Her tone was almost playful.

Kakashi had simmered down as well. "Here it comes." He threw a thumb in Tsunade's direction as he said to Iruka, "I told you so."

Tsunade ignored Kakashi and continued on. The sky cleared and the sun poured into the teahouse through streams of light.

"It just so happens I'm in need of monk. There's some kind of demon roaming around my teahouse and I need you to find it. Those from Kurama-dera specialize in exorcisms, don't they?"

"Excorcisms? I—"

As Iruka made a motion to elaborate on his position at the temple, Sakura blanched behind Tsunade and rapidly shook her head. He swallowed hard. Refusing seemed like the wrong answer. As did coming clean about his identity.

"I'd be… happy to assist in whatever way I can," he said. "But why not ask someone from the Inari Shrine to help?" His neck heated up as Sakura glared daggers at him.

Tsunade gave a hearty laugh, "Hell will freeze over before one of those pricks darkens my doorstep. Besides, this matter requires some discretion. I can trust you, can't I, Obou-san?"

Iruka bowed to hide his panicked expression, "Of course, Tsunade-sama."

"Good! We'll discuss more after dinner." She planted her hands on her hips. "My, my, what an eventful morning we've all had. Ino!" The woman emerged on command. As did Tsunade's assistant, who had a stack of papers at the ready. Tsunade addressed Ino, then her captive audience with a new burst of energy. "Find a room for our guests."

The room came to life. Sakura shot to her feet grabbed Iruka and Kakashi, dragging them to meet Ino.

Tsunade called, stopping them, "This is a house of business. So be sure to behave. If you cause me any more trouble, I'll let Anko have her way with you." Just as Sakura started parroting her boss under her breath, Tsunade gave a final command. "Once you get them settled I'll be expecting you, Sakura."

The woman hid her and Ino led the way from one staircase to the next until they reached the top floor, butting heads all the way.

Sakura's words were drenched in sarcasm, "Thank you so much, Ino, for your help. You honestly couldn't have done a better job—"

"Don't blame this on me—"

"You broke all of my shit! For what!? For NOTHING!"

Ino kept her poise as they zipped around corners.

"It's not my fault they got caught. I made sure they were clear to go."

Sakura was ready to tear her head off. "By destroying my livelihood!"

Kakashi and Iruka trailed, hardly getting a chance to take in the floors they flew past. The second and third floors, of what he could see, were all large party rooms separated by paper screen doors. A few curious heads poked out. Some greeted Sakura and Ino as if their argument were a routine occurrence. Iruka stammered, wanting to break in and deescalate things if he could.

"Your stuff is fine, only a few glasses broke."

She roared, "A few—! A few!? The whole thing split in half!"

Ino hissed, "Keep your voice down."

Iruka interjected with a hushed appeal, "It's not her fault—"

They joined together to say, "Don't defend her, Obou-san," "Stay out of this, Umino-san," before tearing into one another with new vigor until they scaled the last stairs. The fourth floor was exclusively comprised of private rooms. Inlets allowed light from outside to pass through. Most of the rooms were unoccupied and their wooden panels were open.

Ino stopped outside a corner room. "I'm sure Tsunade-sama will return your things once you've made your rounds."

Sakura wasn't happy with that at all.

Ino was ready to rail on her more, but then the fire suddenly went out.

Ino continued with her gaze dropped, "Everyone's excited to see you. I don't understand why you hate being here so much."

Outrage swelled in Sakura's chest, "I love the kids. And the girls—you know that. I'd do anything for them, but I won't be bullied into obedience."

With a mix of reverence and indignation Ino said, "There you go again." She opened the door to let them in. "This wouldn't have happened if you weren't so fussy."

Sakura prepared a rebuttal, but refrained. Despite the impression their morning had given him, Iruka could tell how deeply Sakura cared for Ino, and this place.

Their room had two walls. Tatami mats unfolded to the opposing side where only a pillar at the building's corner and short railings barred them from freefall. Above them were the rafters of the roof, making the room feel massive. Woven reed curtains were rolled and tied above the windows out of sight. The morning sun was still blocked so the room had a blue glow about it. In the corner sat a metal brazier, much larger than Sakura's ceramic hearth.

Kakashi walked in, surveying. He leaned out over the railing, then met Iruka's observing gaze. He beckoned with the jerk of his head and Iruka's heart jumped. He wavered a moment, but was disarmed by Kakashi's casual smile and trotted over.

The horizon was packed with life. All of Enten expanded before them. The rooftops below created an endless maze leading to the mountain. The morning fog was thick at its base where the Daimyo's estate would be. Past that Iruka knew the stairs to the Inari Shrine were somewhere winding up the mountainside, buried in the trees.

Ino spoke to them, "Someone will come to check on you in a little while. If there's anything you need, just ask. You are our guests."

Sakura led her to the door, conceding, "I'll be right down."

Ino gave a brief bow before going.

Sakura slid the door shut and sank to the ground. She collapsed into the wall.

Finally in privacy, she let herself be weak. She held her head in her hands.

"I'm so sorry, Umino-san." Shame washed over her. "I should have told you about Asuma-sama before. I just didn't know how to say it."

In the last flurry he had almost forgotten—No. He had wished to forget.

Iruka leaned on the railing, bracing himself.

"What happened to him?"

Sakura laid her head back until it bumped the wall. She deliberated on where to begin. Then finally it came out. The words burned her. "He was being poisoned for months. They thought it was an illness at first, but the symptoms were irregular. It kept getting worse until eventually it killed him. The truth came out after he passed. Conveniently, someone from their estate confessed to the crime in a letter and slit their own throat before anyone could question them." She glared at the thought. "The other nobility decided to keep it quiet to prevent a panic in the city. As if they could sweep it under the rug."

She remembered herself and turned to Iruka. She put her hands on the floor and bowed deeply. Holding there, she said, "You deserved better. I'm so sorry."

Her prostration tugged at his heart. "No, don't. Please, Haruno-sensei." Iruka rubbed the scar on his nose. "Please, don't worry about that. I understand why you didn't tell me. I was just surprised."

"I should have told you everything…" The young woman sat up straight. The guilt was quickly being transformed into anger at their predicament. "And now we're stuck here. I knew this would happen if I came to Tsunade. She thinks because she's a god, she knows what's best. The sooner we deal with her request, the sooner we can leave. I don't know what you can do or what she wants from you, Umino-san, but you have to go along with it for now. And if you can't, you can just run. I'll deal with the consequences."

Iruka stopped her. "I'm not going to leave you. I said I'd help you and I meant it."

Sakura searched him for any trace of resentment or falsehood.

He gave a lopsided smile. Comforting her was easier than facing the feelings that had resurfaced. Regardless, he couldn't blame her. Sakura had been trying to protect them both from the inevitable pain the truth would bring. He should be used to that sentiment by now.

"We'll get by somehow."

"Tricking her won't be easy, but who knows," Kakashi scanned Iruka slyly, "Obou-san is capable of some pretty interesting things."

Kakashi held plenty enough mocking to earn a deadly glare from Iruka. Any impulse to tear up was blown right out.

Through his teeth he said, "I'll do my best."

The pair made Sakura laugh and she got to her feet.

With their new plan buzzing in their thoughts, the trio gathered at the balcony and took in Tsunade's domain.

The streets below were filled with merchants and artisans. There were families, parents and their children, strolling along as if it were the most natural thing in the world to do.

When Iruka squinted, he could see where the pleasure quarter ended. Outside the bubble, the world seemed to dull. The roads were bare. The endless rows of homes and buildings were monotonous.

This was an oasis, day and night, to an array of people.

Eventually Kakashi spoke, almost forlorn, "I have to admit, Tsunade is impressive. I've never seen the quarter like this. Even after they outlawed the oiran houses, this place was a shithole. I can hardly believe it's the same city." He pointed at the storehouse where a few children were playing. "That's…" He let out an exasperated laugh. "I never imagined it could be like this."

Iruka was transfixed. In the glint of his eye, Kakashi reflected a different world. He peered into the drudged up memory. Whether he was seeking to further uncover it or extinguish it, Iruka couldn't tell.

Sakura was having a hard time making sense of his words. "What do you mean? The oiran houses were banned in Enten ages ago. A century ago, maybe."

Kakashi scrunched his brow, searching himself. "Really? It's been that long?"

It was then that Sakura and Iruka recalled what Tsunade had said about their stranger. It wasn't as though they were caged in with a wild animal, but the walls did suddenly feel a lot closer.

Kakashi chuckled at their reemerging wariness.

Sakura broached the subject first. "A wandering god, huh?" He gave a playful shrug and Sakura laughed with him, "That's better than you being a demon, I suppose."

Better than a demon? Kakashi wasn't much of a god in Iruka's mind. He thought about the land god he had helped raise—the child reincarnated from the beloved Inari. Those were gods. Sacred and revered beings. Tsunade's godliness was a little easier to swallow, considering the vastness of her dominion.

But this man—the stray that got smacked with a broom for stealing meat—was supposed to be of the Inari's caliber?

It wasn't hard for Kakashi to pick up on Iruka's skepticism. "I've been called that before, but I'm nothing special. Just a brat compared to these other guys."

Brat was right, as far as Iruka was concerned. What kind of god disguised himself as a child to tease a grown man? Better yet, why tag along a pair of strangers—as a dog—with no clear motive? If Kakashi had turned out to be a demon, Iruka would have easily believed it. But a god? Iruka couldn't get the image of that ragged stray gnashing on a piece of dried meat out of his head.

Sakura's curiosity was piqued. "What do you influence? The land god creates peace and prosperity, Tsunade has control over fortune and luck—"

Kakashi jumped in with confident clarity, "Don't get too ahead of yourself thinking gods are all-powerful beings. The Inari might make the rice paddies yield well each season, but it's not like they could stop a war with their power alone. And Tsunade's influence as a god is more like a loaded die. She can affect your chances, but she can't control you."

Sakura was not convinced, "I've seen her do some impressive things with her own hands. Impossible things."

Before Iruka could inquire further, there was a tapping on the door behind them.

A child opened it demurely. "Tsunade-sama is waiting for you, Sakura-san."

The sun came up in Sakura and she ran to embrace the girl, completely abandoning their conversation.

"It's been too long, Moegi-chan!"

The girl blushed. "It's good to see you, Sakura-san."

Sakura examined her face, rubbing her cheeks with her thumbs. Her motherly enthusiasm was new to Iruka. "You've gotten so big, I can't believe it! How is everyone? Are the boys behaving?"

Moegi squirmed, "They're troublesome as usual."

Sakura seized the girl in another overpowering hug. "You're so grown up! I can't wait to see everyone else!"

From under Sakura's arms, she spoke bashfully to the two men. "I-I've been instructed to assist you. If you need anything, please don't hesitate to ask."

Sakura pat her head, "How official, Moegi-chan."

"Don't patronize me," she said, sulking.

"Alright, alright." She bid farewell to the men, "I'm sure Tsunade will make me work for a while. Try not to cause any trouble."

Kakashi smirked, "I could say the same for you."

Sakura stuck out her tongue. Then she remembered something, "Oh! Moegi-chan! Can you wait for me outside? It'll be just a second." Moegi frowned and Sakura quickly assure her. "I won't run away. Just give us a minute."

She took a hesitant step to the door. "Okay, fine." The girl lingered and Sakura began pushing her as she added, "Someone is coming up soon with breakfast!"

Iruka groaned loudly despite himself, "Breakfast would be great." Embarrassment quickly followed, but the girl was thrilled by his honesty.

Sakura slid the door shut on Moegi and dug in her clothes. She produced Shizune's book and extended it to Iruka.

"This is selfish of me, Umino-san, but I'm afraid someone will find it on me."

Iruka reached for it, faltering a little. "That's alright… I'll keep it safe for you—"

She stopped him. "No, don't keep it. Hide it. And if anyone tries to get it from you, just tell them where it is. Don't put yourself in danger." She put it in his hands and held them around it. "I'm sorry to ask this of you."

He shook his head, "No, I'm glad I can help. However I can."

She thanked him again and was out the door. With that, Iruka was alone with Kakashi.

Iruka stared at the book. One little book at the center of so much trouble. He stuffed it in his kimono. He was hopeful a suitable hiding place would appear at some point.

A chilling breeze came in and Kakashi tucked his arms inside his sleeves, resting them in the hammock of fabric made by his obi. He went to the window to overlook the city and was swallowed up once more by that far-off gaze. This time, Iruka's nosiness got the better of him.

"You've been in Enten before?"

Kakashi greeted his interest warmly, "It's a hard place to avoid. Last time was… I'm not sure. A decade ago, maybe two? Who knows. It's hard to remember."

"How do you know Tsunade?"

Kakashi hummed, "Know is a strong word. I've run into her a few times over the years. I'm pretty positive we didn't part well last time. I was in a gang of thieves or something like that. Whatever we were, she didn't like us very much."

Iruka remembered the hint of tattoos he'd seen on Kakashi's shoulders. It was easy to picture Kakashi conducting some kind of criminal activity to earn them.

At Iruka's guarded expression Kakashi explained, "I quit that stuff a long time ago. Too much trouble. Besides, I don't think I could go back to it if I tried."

Iruka was unconvinced. "Sure."

"I wouldn't lie to you." Kakashi gave him a wry smile.

His response came off as an invitation for Iruka to pry deeper. "Why a thief?"

"I remember trying farming for a while, and I worked as a merchant at some point, but I always ended up being a sword for hire." He idled at the railing. Silver strands of hair floated around his face in the breeze. "I worked for good guys, for bad guys. It didn't matter. It all blurs together anyway. Eventually, I just couldn't do it anymore."

"Why?"

"It's dangerous, for one." Kakashi pondered briefly, then shrugged. "And it gets boring."

Iruka lifted a brow. "So boring you'd rather—" he paused, suddenly nervous to bring them to the topic, "—transform into a ratty old dog and roam the countryside?"

Kakashi huffed a laugh, then went quiet.

Iruka was worried he had somehow offended the man. He was about to apologize when Kakashi spoke.

"That's what I am." He saw Iruka's disbelief and chuckled, "That's right. I'm nothing special. Just a dog. Then at some point I realized I could change into something else." Kakashi held out a hand. It shifted in the air like smoke. "I could look like a human." He stowed his hand. "So that's what I did. I would live as a human as long as I wanted. Then when I got tired of it, I'd change back."

"You don't remember anything else before that?"

Kakashi didn't seem bothered by it. "I might have just forgotten. Human memories aren't relevant to an animal, so they get hazy after a while."

Iruka considered what he had observed from the strange man.

"So you... you didn't remember Tsunade? Or this place?"

"Not until I saw it, no." He spoke dismissively, trying to dispel Iruka's noticeably growing unease, "This last stretch was pretty long. Too long. I had forgotten I could change back. I forgot I ever lived as a human at all…"

Kakashi trailed off, realizing his efforts had backfired. Iruka was only more engaged. He wouldn't be able to escape so easily.

Iruka knew his eyes were likely twinkling, but he didn't care to contain it.

"What happened?"

Kakashi sighed and took the time to examine Iruka. As he did, his reservations seemed to fade. Kakashi tipped toward him, taking a lazy step closer.

"Something woke me up."

Iruka instinctively retreated, "What?"

Kakashi's unfaltering gaze laid Iruka open, but he said nothing.

"What was it?"

The man approached him and Iruka was knocked off kilter. Not aware how close it was, Iruka flinched when he bumped into the pillar. The balcony's drop on either side of him made his stomach flop, yet Kakashi's undivided attention was much more disconcerting.

"What makes a would-be monk leave his peaceful temple in the mountains and come to this miserable place?"

"Um. It— It's complicated."

Kakashi's hand swept over Iruka's ribs before pressing into the railing, effectively pinning him.

"But you didn't have to come here. You don't owe it to anyone. You can go anywhere you want and there's no one to stop you anymore."

Iruka endeavored to stand his ground. "I want to know the truth."

"About what?"

He dithered, "About… various things."

With his free hand, Kakashi brushed open the collar of Iruka's kimono to see the fading bite mark from the samurai.

"Even if it hurts you?" He traced the mark with his fingers "Even at your own risk?"

"I… didn't really plan for that—"

Trapped under the transparent focus that examined his body, Iruka was filled with a nervous flutter. Kakashi slowly pushed the fabric away to expose the stain of the burr in the center of Iruka's chest. His fingers pressed into the black spot, sending a shiver up Iruka's back. He was completely frozen.

The man's heavy eye lifted to level with Iruka, glinting with fascination. "What makes a person struggle so much? You're always involving yourself in things that were never your business to begin with."

Iruka lit up with hot offense and tore Kakashi's hand from his clothes.

The door slid open to their mutual surprise. Moegi had returned with a boy in glasses about her age. They sported trays covered in delicious smelling food on an assortment of plates and lidded bowls.

Both children turned beet red at the men's outwardly compromising position. Iruka pushed free and stood apart from Kakashi.

"I-I'm sorry, Obou-san." Moegi was politely averting her eyes.

"No, no. You didn't—" He fumbled, digging his grave, "It was nothing. Nothing was happening."

The boy was only more suspicious.

The children sat out the food and cushions for them to sit on. When Iruka knelt for the ground, the wound on his leg stretched. With an irrepressible grunt, he remembered that the stitches had torn loose. He peeked at it and saw the bandage was soaking through.

This put Moegi in a panic. "Are you alright!? Do you need Sakura-san?"

Iruka reassured her, "No, I'm fine. But I could use a new bandage."

Moegi bolted out the door, leaving just the boy.

Kakashi was already eating while Iruka awkwardly waited for someone to say something.

"I'm Iruka, and you are…?"

The boy answered sharply, "Udon."

Iruka nodded, trapped in renewed silence. Without the distractions, he could hear the early birds singing close by. They reminded him of the monotony he had known at the temple. He wondered absently if there'd ever be another peaceful morning in his future.

Then there was the patter of many feet and when the door opened, Moegi was elbowing her way through a dozen children. She tried to shut the door, but eventually gave up.

The crowd marked Kakashi and Iruka's actions with interest.

"Here you are, Obou-san." She handed him the bandage, then asked squeamishly, "Do you need any help?"

Iruka smiled kindly, "No, thank you. I'll take care of it later."

A girl with curly black hair poked her head in from outside, "Obou-san, Obou-san. Did you come here with Sakura-sensei?"

Iruka answered with a slight nod.

The boys opened the door a little wider and asked, "Are you her boyfriend?"

Iruka stammered. "No, I—"

The first girl cut him off, "I saw you coming out of the Okiya."

A gasp rippled through the group.

Iruka decided to eat while the children chattered.

"Boys aren't allowed to go in there!"

"Why not?"

Moegi responded curtly, "Because Anko-nee says so."

Ignoring the current debate, a very defensive boy glared at Iruka. "Are you dating Sakura-san?"

He was answered by another boy who was enthralled by the two eating their breakfast. He held the edge of the door and leaned in. "No, they're a couple."

"Who?" A quiet girl, the littlest one of the group, chirped from the rear. Iruka recognized her instantly. This was the same little girl Tsunade had taken in that morning. She hid in a floppy hat.

"They are!" One of the louder girls pointed between Kakashi and Iruka. "They were hugging earlier, that's what Moegi said."

"A couple!"

Kakashi chewed, unfazed. Iruka's ears turned red.

Moegi was mortified, "I didn't say that! Get out of here before you get me in trouble!"

Udon and Moegi drove the young children outside to the hall.

Iruka followed Kakashi's example, knowing it would only encourage them if he showed a reaction to their teasing. He ducked into his bowl and drank from it.

Moegi sought to save face with her guests, "We'll be back for your dishes. Enjoy!"

She ushered the children out and shut the door behind them.

Iruka hadn't expected to see so many children in such a place. He would have to ask Sakura about them. Worry balled in his stomach at the idea that they had been sold off to Tsunade like the child from before. At least she had a mother to reunite with. He knew that couldn't be the case for all of them. What kind of life could they have in a place like this? Regardless of how Kakashi thought it had improved, this was no place for children.

When Iruka ate his fill, he turned on the cushion to stretch his injured leg. He worked to undo the knot one-handed, wincing.

"Let me." Kakashi walked over before Iruka could protest and knelt close.

Iruka pushed against the man's chest with his good arm, "Wait, I can do it."

Kakashi stopped him with a look. "Just sit still."

Iruka forced himself to relax as the bandage was gently loosened and kept his hand on Kakashi's shoulder to steady himself. Iruka wasn't sure where to rest his sight and settled on watching the cool, pale hands ghost over his olive skin.

When the wrapping was finally removed, it was clear only a few stitches at the end had burst free. The rest of the wound was healing nicely. Kakashi dabbed it clean then lifted Iruka's thigh to wrap the new bandage. The movement didn't hurt him, but he reflexively gripping the man's collar to balance himself.

"When Sakura comes back she'll want to look at it."

His voice made Iruka jump. He nodded obediently, his neck and ears burning.

Kakashi finished and Iruka gave him a quiet, "Thank you."

The man responded with a devious grin. He calmly removed Iruka's hand and source of stability from his shoulder, making him teeter. He turned Iruka's palm slightly, exposing the inside of his wrist, and leaned his face close to it. Kakashi's masked lips brushed the skin and for an instant Iruka was certain he intended to bite down.

Kakashi locked eyes with him and a shudder trickled along his spine.

"Happy to help."

At that, Kakashi eased back with a smile. He helped Iruka sit properly once more, righting his clothes and relinquishing Iruka's hand into his lap.

"But I wish you'd take better care of yourself, Obou-san."

The hammering of Iruka's heart was deafening in his ear.

Maybe Kakashi did intend to eat him after all.

It was then that Iruka became aware of the exited tittering behind them. Peeping through a hidden secondary entrance was the swarm of children. Their faces were all alight.

He hissed at Kakashi under his breath.

"Did you do that on purpose?"

Kakashi was as surprised as Iruka, but quickly turned it to cunning delight. "No, of course not."

* * *

...

Thanks for reading! Sorry for the big gaps between updates. But are we shocked? Honestly? No.

See you next time!


	4. A Hard Day's Night

...

A Hard Day's Night

...

* * *

Pouring in from the hall was a sea of tiny faces. Iruka's first mistake was shooting to his feet which gave the children room to swarm him. Little hands snagged the hems of his clothes and bright eyes dazzled at him like shining pebbles.

"A priest! A priest!"

"I've never seen a priest before!"

A girl promptly corrected, "He's a monk."

Iruka attempted to cut in, "I'm not a—"

"Good morning, Obou-san!" "Hello!"

"Wait—No—"

One child wailed above the others, "Obou-san, what's your name?"

He answered as commanded before the children could yank him to the ground.

"I'm Iruka, I'm not—"

One gasped, scandalized, "You can't call a monk by his name!"

"No, it's fine!—Call me Iruka, please?"

The scorned child apologized, "I'm so sorry! I didn't know!"

"Obou-san! Obou-san!" one called, grabbing his attention, "Where'd you come from?"

Another probed his stomach, "What happened to you? You're hurt all over!"

Iruka winced, "Please don't poke me—" Aggravation was slipping into his voice.

"We have to help Obou-san!"

One of the boys put Iruka's good hand on his shoulder. "Here. Hold onto me" The little sister echoed, "Onto me! Me! I can help, Obou-san!"

"Obou-san!—"

"For goodness' sake!"

His bellowing silencing the spoiled imps and they huddled at his legs in alarm.

He swiftly reined in his frustration, but kept his tone firm.

"Call me Iruka! I'm just a teacher, I'm not a monk."

A contemplative quiet fell over the group.

Then the children erupted in unison. "Iruka-sensei!"

Iruka's reddened face seized up.

"Oh—! Just—!" He chewed his words into gibberish. Then finally he conceded, "Fine. That's fine."

The little monsters laughed at his groan of defeat and engulfed him in their giddy dance. They were over the moon to meet someone new and the questions were nonstop. A monk would have been exciting enough, but a teacher masquerade as one sparked the creation of all varieties of backstories and rumors they would no doubt spread throughout the teahouse.

Kakashi was tailing them, purposefully keeping his distance from the enamored crowd.

"It's a good look for you—" He added a playful lilt to Iruka's new title, "—Iruka-sensei."

That did it.

Iruka whipped his head to glare viciously behind him and threw his pent up rage at Kakashi with full force. Eyes aflame.

"Don't you start!"

The group was hushed.

The littlest girl in a floppy hat tugged on his sleeve. This was the daughter that Tsunade had taken in.

"Are you mad, sensei?"

Iruka blinked and stammered—on the spot. He looked from the startled crowd to Kakashi. The man waited expectantly and lifted a cocky brow. Iruka's fury boiled.

The teary-eyed girl saw his anger and sniffled.

Iruka deflated quickly saying, "No… No, I'm not mad… We were just—"

Kakashi moved fluidly through the group to stand before the small girl.

The rest of the children softened, cautious of the man whose attendance they had forgotten, while she stared up at him with big eyes.

The stoic man and timid girl evaluated one another. They held a wordless conversation across the great separation of their heights. When it ended, Kakashi smiled. He held his hands open to her and the girl meekly reached to be picked up.

Iruka was flabbergasted.

Kakashi swept her up without hesitation and held her high so she nearly sat on his shoulder. The little girl took a strand of Kakashi's light hair in her stubby fingers and flicked it like the bristles of a paintbrush.

"What's your name?" he asked.

She pouted bashfully, "F…Futaba." She pet the small amount of hair she had claimed.

"I'm sorry, Futaba-chan. I made Iruka-sensei angry. I promise we won't fight anymore."

She checked Iruka with those sad, round eyes. "You won't fight?"

Iruka shook his head fervently.

The girl hugged shyly onto Kakashi, content, and the man gave a triumphant smirk from behind the girl's hat.

Kakashi poked Futaba's round, rosy cheeks. "Will you give us a tour?"

The prospect made the children rejoice.

Iruka couldn't believe how quickly the children had been swayed. That impossible charm had them wrapped around Kakashi's finger. Not that Iruka could blame them. He'd be lying if he said Kakashi's magic had no effect on him.

The man's cool confidence coated Iruka like a salve. His irritation flooded out, forgotten.

So began Iruka and Kakashi's noisy tour of the teahouse. They drew the attention of every staff member and potential patron that happened to be in their vicinity. Iruka was grateful, despite his embarrassment, to have another chance to take in the splendor.

He was in a paradise of refined art.

Each panel on the fourth floor was painted with different tributes to nature. It only took Iruka a moment to realize each room had its own theme of color and design. Their space in the corner was decorated with delicate blooming branches and peeping song birds. Their neighbor, on the other hand, was overflowing with proud cranes navigating lily pads.

On the third floor were empty rooms with tables and mats seen through the open paper doors. Morning light poured in and illuminated intricately designed kimonos on display at the head of each table. Unlike those on the fourth floor, the panels here were markedly plain, allowing the attention of the occupants to focus on the festivities held within. The ghosts of these celebrations lingered and Iruka could almost hear the echoes of laughter and conversation.

However, there were secret exceptions to this artistic bareness. As they passed a room, Iruka spied a pair of faintly painted koi fish swimming at the floorboard. Iruka had a strange daydream that the little fish might swim along to the next room the moment they were out of his sight.

He traced the image in the air as they passed, smiling to himself.

While they were somewhat alone, Iruka interrogated the children. He asked about their families and how they came to be under Tsunade's care, releasing a torrent of eager stories. Some had been left behind or orphaned while some were sold to pay off their parents' debts. Most had been living on the streets before Tsunade found them. The way they spoke, it was as if an invisible shield contained the pleasure quarter and those inside. So long as they stayed here, they were protected. That didn't keep them from running errands throughout Tsunade's domain to stay busy when they weren't attending lessons.

Tsunade's goal, so Moegi told him, was to find new families for them far outside the city. If she couldn't do so before they reached a certain age, Tsunade would set them up with a job through her various connections.

"But Tsunade-sama already found a home for Moegi-chan!"

"Moegi-chan is leaving us!"

The girl confirmed it, placing her hands proudly on her hips, "I'm going to the ocean! There's a fisherman and his wife that want to adopt me!"

One of the children mocked her, "You don't know how to fish, Moegi-chan!"

"I'll learn! And I'll bring you back shells and pearls and all kinds of things!"

She painted a picture of her future home on the shore. She'd wake up early and go out on a boat with her new father. She'd prepare and sell the fish they caught with her mother. The work would be hard, but they'd be together as a family.

At her confident display, one of the younger boys burst into tears. Another joined in, lamenting her departure. She wrapped her friends—her siblings—in her arms, as many she could fit. The smile never left her face as she soothed them.

Udon stood at Iruka's side, apart from the touching moment. He crossed his arms over his chest and his expression was lost behind the glare of his glasses.

Moegi quickly changed her story to one the children were familiar with. She reminded them of one of their adventures together, and declared she'd tell everyone she met about her time in the teahouse. She rallied their group and encouraged her brothers and sisters to share their stories, bringing Iruka and Kakashi back into the tour.

The teahouse was their wonderland. The floating world was the only real home they'd known.

In the early morning they dominated the empty halls and hid to shirk their chores. They would often compete to see how long they could play hooky before getting caught by a staff member.

To the restaurant and stall owners, they were little demons who demanded offerings and treats. The owners knew to treat the children well on their mission to deliver food to the teahouse patrons. Otherwise, there was no telling what trouble the urchins would get up to. Or what rumors they'd spread to Tsunade if left unsatisfied.

Most days they were stuck fetching food like this or cleaning, but they all agreed that serving the patrons was what they most looked forward to.

Lords, ladies, artisans, and traders from all over the country came to experience Tsunade's famous hospitality for themselves. Each guest brought another patch for the children to weave into their image of the outside world.

On their little feet they carried messages from patron to patron. Their sharpened senses took in every secret—another great source of pride. Earning the trust of wealthy patrons was a badge of honor.

The tour was interrupted by the smug snicker of one of the boys.

"I've delivered letters outside the quarter before," he said, puffing his chest out.

The children gasped and jealousy rippled through them. They hissed and groaned that they hadn't been so lucky.

Meanwhile, Moegi stiffened.

She strode over to the boy and took his arm, "You are not to do that again."

The room went quiet.

She chided him, almost fearful, "It doesn't matter who asks you—it's against the rules. The patrons know that too."

Some of the children tittered at him. The boy tried to hold onto his pride, but his face was going red. He fell into a pout and refused to meet Moegi's eye.

She reprimanded the children, "It's not funny." When the others went shamefully quiet, Moegi knelt by the boy and took him by the shoulders. "It's dangerous," she told him. "If they ask you again, tell me or Anko-nee. Okay?"

The boy's big lip stuck out and humiliated tears filled his eyes. He nodded all the same.

Moegi rubbed his head, smiling gently. "Thank you."

She stood and took his hand to walk with him. The children diligently followed their young guardian.

The small moment of drama flew from their thoughts when the tour moved to the second floor. The hoard rushed to the main attraction.

Iruka and Kakashi were brought to a spacious room, larger than any other they'd seen. The sides of the room were lined by lanterns on tall and slender stands. Cascading from the rafters were swaths of dangling flowers. Upon closer investigation, Iruka realized they were made of paper. The far wall was painted with spindly black branches of a tree bearing clusters of white blossoms that seemed to lift from the panels. The tree trailed up one side to frame the center space, while large folding screens stood on each edge of the proscenium. They had protective sheets draped over them, but Iruka could see the hint of gold-leaf scenery peaking from underneath.

It was a performance hall, their young guides told them.

The children spread out in the room to reenact out some of their recently collected rumors. They mimed the production, lest they be discovered by a staff member by making too much noise.

Iruka and Kakashi used the distraction to take a break. Iruka hadn't done much of anything, but the children had worn him out. He cringed at the notion of teaching them in a classroom setting and let out a grateful sigh knowing it was some other poor fool's job.

He had seen children play like this a thousand times, yet he couldn't help but consider where they were: in a famous teahouse, deep within the pleasure quarter.

Kakashi gave him a nudge. "What's wrong, Iruka-sensei?" Iruka's quick glare made Kakashi chuckle. "Right, sorry." He took a deliberate pause to accent his name, "Iruka."

Iruka wasn't accustomed to being addressed so informally. He tried not to be sidetracked by the heat rising in his face and instead focused on the children.

"To be honest, I'm relieved to hear how happy they are." He shook his head in awe, "If I hadn't seen it myself, the idea of children living and working in a place like this would horrify me."

He expected Kakashi to laugh at him, but reflected in his, the shushed laughter of children took on a bittersweet sound. As if he was all too familiar with the paradox of innocence in this place.

"They're lucky, that's for sure."

His grim smile was out of place. It knotted Iruka's stomach.

Kakashi returned to his teasing demeanor in a flash. "It's best if kids can be kids, don't you think? Even if they're little monsters from time to time."

Iruka answered with unease, "Yes. That's… I agree."

Iruka couldn't tell when to take Kakashi seriously. He was always a step behind. And he hated the feeling that Kakashi was censoring himself out of consideration.

"Keep frowning like that and you'll get wrinkles."

Kakashi reached out and his feathery touch glanced off Iruka's cheek, jolting him from his worry.

Iruka blushed with a meek laugh and rubbed his head.

Kakashi relaxed back, satisfied, "That's better."

A gruff voice came from the room next door, making them both jump.

"I'm almost done!"

The children leapt like lightening to listen in. They flapped their hands to bid them come closer and the adults' ears were forcibly stuck to the wall.

The first voice, a man, was battling with himself. He was complaining in an impolite tone, going on and on about how he didn't have enough time and that someone was making unrealistic demands. Then he suddenly became ecstatic that his work was almost complete. He congratulated himself on what he had managed to accomplish despite the odds.

There was a second person with him, but their voice was either too soft to discern or too disinterested to participate in the one-man opera.

Moegi stealthily opened the panel and all eyes slid in.

Lying on the floor in an organized fashion were piles of fabric. Assortments of obi, kimono, and robes of all shades and patterns. At first Iruka assumed they belonged to a geisha, but the flashiness of the fabric and decorations told him otherwise. Shining in the center of the room was the back of an oiran at the end of their transformation.

The man was in front, using his whole body to crease and tie the final massive obi. It required his full strength to pull it tight. When he finished, he took a recovering breath. Then he gingerly removed a wig from its pedestal.

The exposed neck and shoulders of the oiran were painted white. The black sculpted waves of the wig hid the perfect seam where the white makeup ended at the hair line. The splayed, golden ornaments jingled as the dresser tugged the wig over the oiran's short tuffs of red hair.

He took a step back and Iruka saw the dresser's face for the first time. He had red tattoos shaped like fangs on his cheeks. He flashed a toothy smile to the oiran.

"You're perfect." He knelt to fold the fabric at his feet. "And it didn't take as long as I thought! We might be able to pull this off after all."

The oiran turned carefully, revealing more of the alluring outfit, and one of the children fell over trying to get a better angle.

The dresser spotted them immediately. "Hey! What are you kids doing!?"

The performance hall exploded with movement.

Moegi grabbed Iruka's hand, "Run!"

Udon and the children scattered from them in the opposite direction as an ideal, giggling distraction while Moegi led Iruka and Kakashi into the winding corridor. Her socked feet pattering ahead of them on the tatami mats as the man yelled after the squealing children.

The morning light gave a pale yellow glow to the hall. Iruka lost track of the turns they had taken, but he could tell they were circling back to the main stairs. They slowed at the corner that would open to the central chamber.

Moegi poked her head out from the corner, then jerked it back.

"I see you, Moegi!" The familiar voice made Iruka's stomach drop.

It was Anko.

Moegi opened a nearby door and shooed them inside. She put a finger to her lips, then closed them in.

Iruka and Kakashi shrank against the door, listening intently.

"What are you doing running around here—have you lost your mind!?"

Moegi feigned innocence, "The others heard Sakura-san was back and they wanted to see her. We were trying to find her…"

"In the performance hall? You lot are insufferable." She snarled.

A sad, scolded silence passed.

When she spoke again, Anko's voice was almost affectionate.

"Sakura's busy with Tsunade's laundry list at the moment." They could hear Anko ruffle the girl's hair. "She'll have time to visit everyone later."

Moegi gave a small cheer.

"Round up your posse, little lady. I know you all have chores to do."

She gave Anko a resounding, "Yes, ma'am!" then pranced away with her.

Once they were gone, Iruka and Kakashi sighed and fell back from the door.

There was a shuffling of fabric behind them that made Iruka nearly leave his skin.

He recognized the woman right away. It was Ino. She was tucking her kimono into place. Her face was flushed and her hair was disheveled.

Lying on the floor in a strange pose was a man in an ash colored kimono. His hands were in the air aimed at Ino, clearly from where she had torn herself free. His skin was white as a sheet, though it seemed his natural pallor, and he had a completely deadpan face framed by silky black hair. His pouty lower lip was kiss swollen. Ino lurched up and stormed past Kakashi and Iruka to the door.

She fixed her hair and gave a threatening hiss, "Not a word." Then she was gone.

The man slumped into the floor. His eyes trailed her. Once he accepted her absence, he rolled over. The floor was littered with paper, ink stones, and brushes. With one glance at the sketches strewn about, Iruka instantly knew him to be the artist responsible for the teahouse's extravagance. The man resumed testing colors, occasionally lifting a rough painting up to the blank sliding doors before him.

Iruka spoke as unobtrusively as possible, "Sorry for disturbing you."

The painter ignored him. Iruka bowed his head apologetically and turned to Kakashi.

He was checking the hall through the cracked door. Kakashi's mood had taken a nosedive. His brows were scrunched together in concentration. He kept shaking his head, as if trying to bat away a troubling thought.

He groaned at what he saw outside, "That woman is just standing by the stairs."

Iruka whispered, "We should wait, right? She'll go eventually."

Frustration stilled the painter's hand. He sat aside his work and stood, drawing their attention. With a stiff smile, he greeted the two men and took stock of them—Iruka's tanned skin in particular.

He spoke while exuding sharp civility. "Do you need help finding your rooms?"

Iruka and Kakashi's voices overlapped. "Yes, I suppose—" "No, we're just fine."

Iruka fluffed his hair awkwardly, apologizing for Kakashi's grumpiness.

The man's tightly held lips were a little unsettling. "I think I can help."

Iruka bowed, "We would appreciate it."

The slick man opened the door without checking to see if it was safe. He led them out impatiently, deep down the hall from the main stairs. The children's fuss and Anko's resonant voice faded as they went.

"Your paintings are stunning. I've never seen anything like them." Iruka spluttered, a little star-struck. "I'm sure it took a lot of work to complete them all."

The tatami mats ended and they walked onto polished wood. The man kept his taut smile as they reached what appeared to be a service staircase. He stopped abruptly and gestured at the stairs.

Iruka fumbled on, "Do you switch out the designs based on seasons—?"

He interrupted with the illusion of cordiality, "I'm too busy to play nice with every country bumpkin I meet. Please do me the curtesy of removing your filthy selves from my workspace." He reemphasized his gesture to the stairs.

Kakashi growled at the man under his breath, "Your attitude is as shitty as ever."

The painter's sneering eyes opened, "Do I know you, dickless—?"

When he saw Kakashi, his arrogant step faltered. His mouth was dropped open on his last word, as if a ghost had brushed between them.

Kakashi didn't waste the opportunity to flee. He took Iruka's hand and guided him up, leaving the man stuck to the floor at the bottom of the stairs.

Kakashi spared only a wary glance toward the petrified painter to answer him. "Thankfully, no."

They were well on their way to the fourth floor before Iruka could process what had just happened.

Iruka bumbled, coming into his rage a little late. "Did he say bumpkin? Did that kid call me a bumpkin!?"

Iruka glared behind him, but the last Iruka could see of the insulting man was the tail of his kimono disappearing down the hall.

"Ignore him," Kakashi said, sounding unfazed.

He fumed, "Do you two know each other from somewhere?"

Kakashi didn't respond. His brows furrowed as he puzzled.

"He definitely knew you."

When they reached the top floor, Kakashi curbed their pace and Iruka's temper along with it. He searched downstairs to catch sight of the man without success. Then he shook his head firmly to banish the interaction.

"I don't know him. Not really. He's just a snot-nosed brat I ran into on the street once. He's bigger now, but I'm sure it's him."

Iruka could almost hear the memories clacking together as Kakashi's riffled through them, trying to sort them in a way that made sense. Kakashi leaned back out of the recollection and returned to Iruka.

"He leaves quite the impression, doesn't he?"

Iruka was disoriented by the whole encounter, but snorted a laugh anyway, "No kidding."

The stairs ended in a long, sprawling balcony. The ceiling expanded above them, revealing the rafters and support beams. They were on the shaded side of the building. The blue sky was gently reflected on the shining wood floors.

It took Iruka a moment to recognize where they were. Behind them were the painted bedrooms, which seemed spoiled now having met the man responsible for them. On the other side of those would be the open center of the teahouse.

In this hidden hall, the railing went from one end of the building to the other without interruption, providing an endless view of the sky and mountain.

Iruka couldn't help but get closer to admire the sight. He unintentionally tugged Kakashi along with their joined hands.

Iruka's heart dropped into his stomach at what he saw.

The mountain was no longer shrouded in the opaque haze. For the first time since their arrival, the blight that loomed above the city was visible.

The Onryou.

Rising and sinking out of the wispy clouds was a dense, black smoke—ink in water. Unlike what he had seen as a child, the Onryou was coiled like a sleeping snake in suspended motion, astonishing and foreboding. A living myth. Iruka couldn't see all of it thanks to the misty clouds, but it was large enough to drown the mountain in shadow.

"That looks like trouble." Iruka became aware of Kakashi's hand on his when the man's low voice buzzed through their contact. "Maybe leaving the mountain was a bad idea."

"You might be right…" Iruka's tension dispelled in a helpless laugh, "We could always go back."

Iruka noticed both of Kakashi's eyes were open and on him. He could feel Kakashi's pulse quicken in his hand and the skin suddenly warmed. Grey and red sank, and he released Iruka.

Kakashi walked ahead, inviting Iruka to do the same. They ambled along the railing, while Iruka drilled into the side of Kakashi's face with glimmering eyes.

Was Kakashi embarrassed? Iruka couldn't quite tell. He flexed his hand wanting nothing more in the world than to recreate that reaction.

In Kakashi's escape, they met the corner of the building and peered below to see Tsunade's enclosed garden. There was a small structure hiding there that had been entirely obscured from view at ground level. It was a tiny teahouse. Not Tsunade's gaudy version, but a classic and formal structure. The wood was old, but well maintained. There was clearly a path in the landscaping leading to it, veiled by thick bushes and trees. When compared to the flashiness of the garden, it was a relic.

Iruka wasn't paying very close attention. He was trying to memorize the look on Kakashi's face. They heard someone coming and Iruka saw his chance. He snatched Kakashi's hand and took the lead. He pulled Kakashi along the balcony.

They reached their room and it was just as they had left it.

Iruka felt Kakashi's heartbeat through their fingers. When Iruka finally faced Kakashi, there was a telltale pink on the man's cheeks.

Iruka couldn't believe his eyes.

Kakashi tried to keep calm, "W-why'd you run? We weren't doing anything suspicious."

Solidly distracted by Kakashi's stammer, Iruka fought a goofy smile.

"I don't know… I didn't want to get roped into another mess."

Kakashi mocked him, "That's smart, considering your luck—"

Iruka squeezed his fingers and Kakashi went quiet. When Kakashi met his relentless stare, the pink spread. Iruka wondered if this was why Kakashi liked teasing him so much. His every little reaction was captivating.

But Kakashi wasn't going to make it easy for him.

"You've caught me, Obou-san." He dropped his voice with a sultry smirk, "Now what?"

Iruka's face burst into a furious blush.

He dropped Kakashi's hand like it was a hot iron.

"Th-those kids wore me out. I—" He clomped awkwardly away. "I could use a nap."

Iruka plopped down on the floor and curled so Kakashi couldn't see his face.

Kakashi stood stunned in the door before chuckling.

"By all means."

He posted up at the window. Iruka could feel that mischievous eye locked on him.

Then Kakashi casually asked, "Do you still have that book Jiraiya gave you?"

"Hmm?" Iruka dug around, too humiliated to get back up. He produced it from his pouch and scanned the cover. "What is it?"

Kakashi's eye crinkled playfully.

Iruka's shoulder was causing him a fair amount of discomfort now, but Iruka could still manage with one hand. He thumbed the book open with difficulty and held it above him.

He read something about pearls and an angry sea god. There was a shell diver being attacked by some kind of creature. At the end of the page, it seemed she was losing. When he turned to the next page he was affronted by a graphic description of the woman being eaten out by an octopus.

He dropped the book on his face and gave a startled yell.

Kakashi's chuckle bubbled out of control as Iruka violently threw the book at him. "Which part did you read?" Iruka growled as Kakashi skimmed until he found Iruka's place. "Oh, this part. It's not all like that. There's a surprising amount of plot if you give it a chance."

Iruka rolled over to shield his glowing red face. "That's gross. You're gross."

Kakashi flipped past the cover to the first page, "Excuse you! This is art."

The man's occasional snicker was what lulled Iruka into mortified sleep.

* * *

Iruka grumbled loudly when light from outside their room blinded him without warning. He shielded his face, cursing Kakashi for opening the door.

A hand grabbed his shoulder and yanked him onto his back.

Rude awakening was too gentle a term.

When Iruka found himself staring into the face of the god of fortune, he nearly shat himself.

"It's time to go to work, little monk."

Iruka scrambled together while Tsunade kicked Kakashi awake.

He had little time to do so because Tsunade led the freshly roused pair from their darkened room without delay.

The smells and sounds poured in before they could step out the door. Tsunade brought them to the railing over the main staircase and what waited struck them with bewilderment.

The teahouse was bursting with life.

The center chamber swirled with elegant clothes, perfume, and sophisticated laughter. Every floor was a unique and dazzling festival. Geisha glided from room to room, fluttering an inch off the ground. Each one was accompanied by a parade of music and admirers—a painted fan trailed by wind-swept smoke. Iruka knew the price to step foot in this arena had to be shockingly steep. The nobles held their heads high with the grace and dignity of the truly elite. Every inch of the place reeked with expense and glamor to an almost gaudy effect.

Beauty saturated every crease and corner, but apart from the clinking of dishes and hum of conversation, it was rather muted. The picture of perfection was taciturn. Cold.

As they descended the stairs, Iruka realized Tsunade was without an escort. In fact, her presence was deliberately unacknowledged by her staff. Her vigilant eye flickered from detail to detail, pausing only to take note of whatever error it fell upon.

Her attire in comparison to those they passed now seemed very humble. At her side and in his perpetually clean kimono, Kakashi fit in with annoying naturalness. Iruka, on the other hand, stuck out like a sore thumb. His black kimono was torn and dusty compared to the painfully pristine setting.

Tsunade's inescapable eye latched onto him at one point and his heart stopped. Instead of berating him, however, her gaze flitted off without a word.

Not many guests recognized Tsunade by sight, but those who did observed the trio with great curiosity.

Tsunade stopped them at a dining room were a geisha and her client were playing a drinking game. It wasn't hard to get the gist. The pair tapped their open palms—the geisha and then the client—on the dish between them to the rhythm of a pattering song being played. Occasionally one person would pick up the dish and the other had to tap the absent spot with their closed fist. When a mistake was made, the loser would drink.

It didn't seem that interesting of an activity, but for some reason the room was intensely invested. The clients sat on the edge of their seats. Their cherry red faces were locked onto the game. At their sides, the geisha waited with patient and accommodating smiles. When someone lost, half the room erupted in a joyous uproar and the other half would drink with noisy complaint. They were acting more like whiny adolescents than grown, dignified people.

The three of them stopped at a few similar rooms on the third and second floor that were in the thick of the evening celebrations. Each time, Iruka's respect for the nobility was chipped away at by their indulgent and gross behavior.

Unlike what Sakura had implied in her description, Iruka had seen very few patrons—if any—from the lower classes. Perhaps the god of fortune's clientele wasn't as broad as Sakura claimed.

The trio stood with the intent to join another room when a young maiko came to Tsunade's side and gave a courteous bow. In her hair was an assortment of pinned flowers and decorations. Her long sleeves hung at her sides and the wide obi covered most of her torso. Tsunade let the girl lead them to the performance hall. The doors were shut, but one could hear a shamisen already plucking an energetic tune from within. Tsunade didn't hesitate to open the doors. A room divider barred the outside light and stood in their way. When they wove around it, Iruka discovered how the room had transformed.

The lanterns were burning low. It took Iruka a moment for his eyes to adjust. The path down the center of the room was clear, and each side was lined with low tables for guests and their geisha. The atmosphere of the hall held no resemblance to that of the central chamber.

There was a sense of rare privacy here. Nothing existed beyond this room.

Five young maiko were on the stage in the middle of an elaborate dance. Their kimonos were youthful and vibrant. Their hair decorations varied based on their years of study, or so Iruka would learn.

The folded panels Iruka had partially seen were now on full display. They were covered in shining gold leaf, bearing a beautiful water scene. They framed the dancers with glowing light. The women's graceful hands gently shaped the air with their movement. With every turn they made, the world outside faded from the spectator's memory.

Their maiko server placed the trio in the back corner of the room and food was brought promptly to them. The young woman sat among them, making sure their cups were never empty. She had to pay particular attention to Iruka as he fought back his anxiety with the taste of saké.

Iruka hadn't realized how hungry he was. The maiko giggled at him as he made short work of his dinner—as politely and neatly as possible. He finished just as the first maiko dance concluded. Within the strategically timed rest, the geisha and staff replaced empty plates with more decadent food. Unfortunately, Iruka couldn't fill his stomach fast enough to match his drinking and he found himself rather intoxicated before the second dance had even begun.

Despite the makeup and formal attire, Iruka recognized one of the three women. Ino's long blond hair was arranged perfectly and donned with modest hair ornaments to keep its shape.

She and the other women were wielding branches of budding flowers. As a haunting note on the shamisen was struck, the room regained its reverent stillness.

The shamisen player's clear voice joined in with the echo of her instrument, and her song became a heartbreaking storm. The sweeping branches of the dancers made the room sway and the expert performers seemed to merge on a higher plane of artistry. Iruka hadn't detected hesitation in the maiko's movements, but seeing their betters take the stage with elegance and precision drew a clear line between them.

The shimmer coming off the panels was textured, like light from the setting sun gleaming through waves of heat. The women made another sharp turn and one petal lift free from their branches. The soft petal floated in the metallic water and Iruka suddenly recalled the flash of silver. Kakashi's knife in his attacker's throat. The pale blue kimono ghosting over his figure. The penetrating glint of his red eye.

Careful not to be noticed, Iruka took in the man beside him with hazy, drunken mooning. Like the other audience members, Kakashi's attention had been successfully pulled in, but—as always—he seemed far away. His thoughts were elsewhere.

Iruka could not fathom what had brought this wandering god into his life, better yet, what could possibly be encouraging him to stay. Kakashi had expressed some morbid curiosity in the impersonating monk, but that wasn't justification enough for Iruka.

Kakashi leaned forward, stretching across Iruka to take the saké bottle. He gestured at Iruka's cup and Iruka nodded fervently, holding it up to be filled.

The small tink of porcelain sent a chill through him. The feeling of Kakashi's shy hand came to mind. Iruka wasn't sure what exactly he had planned to do to Kakashi at that time, but the unspoken urge had not settled. Perhaps Kakashi was similarly occupied. Iruka could feel his companion's stare roll over him like silk. The caress of Kakashi's eyes traced Iruka's hand as he took the bottle back.

A small smile crept up on him under Kakashi's attention. He couldn't help but move with specific fluidity. It took all Iruka's concentration to keep his hand steady as he poured Kakashi's saké, lest he shiver despite himself.

When their stare did meet, Kakashi toasted to him and pulled the mask to his chin so they might drink together. The space between them shrank and they eased together in the dark.

Kakashi pointed subtly ahead of them.

For the first time, Iruka realized they had the perfect view of all the guests. The lack of light at the back obscured them but left the noble men and women fully illuminated. Many were enraptured by the performance, but some leaned toward one other, deep in confidential discussion. Their geisha stared at the dance, seemingly oblivious. Iruka was sure they were busy sealing away whatever secrets they happened to overhear.

Iruka felt a rush. He beamed at Kakashi and hidden world unfolding for them. With the premise of high society, every action felt scandalous. Business partners, rivals, strangers—their secrets were plain on their face. Kakashi matched Iruka's smile and leaned forward to join in Iruka's observations, noting what they saw. Kakashi held his cup by his chin and pressed his hand against his lips. Occasionally the mark at the corner of his mouth would be revealed as he sipped.

Iruka wanted to see that smile in a better light. He wanted to feel the pale hand that held its cup. His head swam, though he could hardly blame it on the saké.

It had been years since he had felt this way about anyone.

He watched the tragically beautiful dance and let those swirling thoughts warm him rather than try to suppress them. To hell with dignity, he told himself.

The geiko's performance concluded and the troupe sailed off into the side room.

Another break for food and drink came and went. In the final act, the maiko took the stage again, drawing the guests into a cheerful jaunt.

To Iruka's immense disappointment, Tsunade stood before the dance was over. He scuttled to follow as their attendant escorted them out, but he had difficulty getting his soupy legs under control.

Back in the bright world of the teahouse, Iruka squinted. It was like seeing the splendor new again. The party was entering its peak. The officials and noble guests were cutting loose now, their polite masks were crumbling.

At least in the dark of the performance hall, Iruka could forget he was still in shabby monk's robes. The frigid eyes of the elites narrowed at Iruka with condescending mirth. Then, as if he were a blemish on their evening, they would block him from their vision and turn away with arrogant smiles on their powdered faces.

Iruka tugged at his sleeve's hem and the painter's critical words resounded. Country bumpkin, indeed.

"What do you think?"

He realized Tsunade was speaking to him and hastily responded, "It's wonderful. The food—everything—it's incredible."

Tsunade lifted her pale brow, "Are you sensing any evil spirits, Obou-san?"

Hot shame made his face bloom bright pink. Tsunade hadn't been showing them her establishment out of the goodness of her heart. She was giving Iruka a chance to search for the demon hiding somewhere in the building.

"G-give me a moment." He walked to the edge of the railing and tried to focus.

Not only had he completely forgotten their plan to fool the god of fortune, but he had spent his precious time gallivanting about and shamelessly flirting with Kakashi when he could have been gathering information. Meanwhile, Sakura was probably off somewhere doing real work.

He had to convince Tsunade he was trying his best, right? But how? He was half drunk. He had nothing. No mantras, no rituals. He didn't have the faintest clue how the monks at Kurama-dera would track down a demon.

Panic was setting in when Kakashi's comment drifted back.

He had been capable of some pretty interesting things lately.

He had cleansed a possessed samurai. Somehow. He had to give himself some credit.

He considered how Tsunade's presence had made his stomach turn when they first met. Was that the seed reacting to something otherworldly? Or was it just nerves? If it was a supernatural sensitivity that would mean Jiraiya might not be entirely human either.

He rattled his intoxicated brain free of the tangent before it ran away with him. He didn't have time for more distractions.

When it came down to it, it was just him and the seed.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He tried to elicit what he had felt then.

The room was loud. Suppressed, carnal energy was radiating through the building. It didn't take any special ability to determine that. What he could tell—feel—was that something was pressing in on his view very strongly from behind.

He snapped out of his concentration, amazed he had picked up on something after all.

He took a breath in and turned to face what his wimpy mystic powers had found.

There, standing together and staring back at him, were two gods. The pleasure quarter's queen, and a wandering mutt.

Of course.

"Can… can I take a walk around…? Alone?"

Suspicion flashed in Tsunade, but she sat it aside. "Be my guest."

Kakashi started to follow him, but Iruka held out his hand. "A-alone."

The man stopped short, confused. When Kakashi tilted his head Iruka immediately saw the stray in him and reflexively gave a cheering grin. Still perplexed, Kakashi caught Iruka's meaning well enough and his concern dissipated with an exhausted smile.

Iruka took a stroll along the railing. A blaring buzz of life filled the building to the brim. There were pockets of quiet that shifted naturally in the body of space. The service stairs were particularly calm. The balcony overlooking the garden. The rooms on the fourth floor.

This was pointless. How was he supposed to know if he found something? Wait for a cramp?

He put a hand on his chest and whispered quietly, "If you could help me out, that would be great."

He continued to wander, completely unsure of what to be looking for, until he approached the stairs leading to the first floor.

He hit a dip.

He walked past it, then through the spot again.

There it was. A dip. A distinct sinking in the corner of the teahouse.

He stood right on it and a light hunger clawed at Iruka's throat. He knew the feeling from the post town.

He scanned the floor he stood on, then over the railing. He was just above Tsunade's private rooms. Across the opening, he flagged the two gods and pointed down, feeling foolish. Kakashi shrugged, but Tsunade was oddly expressionless.

Iruka moved down the stairs, his bare feet pattering on the wood.

The first floor had been rearranged by false walls and decorations meant to shepherd the guests to the upper floors in a clear path. Iruka could see from the stairs that the other side of these walls was relatively empty, allowing the workers and geisha to operate freely in the background.

He became aware of the guests above that might be watching him and snuck behind one of the screens with a little more delicacy. He approached the room in question and listened at the door.

"No. I'm sorry. I won't prescribe anything without meeting the patient first."

It was Sakura.

Anko's loud voice was second. "I told you, she's only a few months along. Two months, maybe three."

"If you bring her in, I'll be happy to—"

"She can't come here. She doesn't want anyone to know. Come on, Sakura. She needs help fast. Your stuff is stronger than anything we could get in the city."

"You're damn right it is. That's why it's dangerous. If you're not careful, the mother could die too."

Iruka didn't even notice Tsunade at his back until she was calling, "Anko, we're coming in."

Without a replying invitation, Tsunade threw open the door.

Sakura had set up shop in the room. Her box had been dismantled, though not by choice. The poor thing sat in the corner, stripped of its possessions. It had suffered greatly in its fall. It was clear Sakura had begun repairing it, but it needed more than an amateur's help. Sakura's herbs and bottles were strewn across the floor in detailed sections, leaving only a little room for the cushion where her patients could sit, currently occupied by Anko. The woman was clearly frustrated at Tsunade's timing.

Anko greeted her boss with a bit of a bite. "How can I assist you, Tsunade?"

The blond jerked her head at Iruka, ushering him in.

He straightened up in the doorway and concentrated on the dip.

He took a few steps, ready to be led in whatever direction the seed pulled. He stood over the dip and the seed tugged at his chest. It was stronger than what he felt above, but it was… still beneath them. Further, much further down.

He had come to a dead end.

A jolt of excitement struck him and he tried to keep his expression under control. He could—with complete honestly—say he tried his best to find Tsunade's demon, but he had reached the end of the road.

"I… I'm sorry, Tsunade-sama. I think I've made some kind of mistake."

Tsunade's acute gaze held no judgement. "What is it, Obou-san? Tell me."

He rubbed his head with a laugh, "It's strange, but for some reason I'm sensing something far below us." He could barely contain his glee.

Anko's eyes widened.

Tsunade was struggling to keep her face neutral. "Yes, that is strange."

That wasn't the response he had expected at all.

Iruka continued, "D-do you happen to have any storage under the building? That's the only thing I can imagine."

"Well, well." Her voice was rife with suppressed laughter, "It just so happens that I do."

The blood drained from his face at their reactions. What did that mean? He was sure he had failed. When he glanced at Kakashi and Sakura, they seemed just as lost.

Tsunade broke out her wily grin. "It's a good thing you got some rest, little monk, because it's going to be a long night."

Anko walked to Tsunade, disapproval heavy in her voice. "You can't be serious, Tsunade."

She shrugged, "You heard him, Anko. It seems our problem resides under the teahouse."

Anko was ready to argue with Tsunade, but caught Iruka in her sights and silenced herself.

Tsunade went to the doorway, hands on her hips. "You have a few hours to kill before we close up, little monk. Use them how you like but if you touch any of my girls, it'll cost you an arm and a leg!" Iruka couldn't tell if that was meant figuratively or literally, but he had no intention of finding out. "Sakura, you've done enough for today. Moegi has a change of clothes for you."

Tsunade was going to address Iruka when she remembered something and turned to Kakashi with an accusatory finger.

"This is a onetime admittance for you, do you understand?"

He lifted a brow, knowing full well he was being insulted, "Sure." He kept his tone chirpy to hide his edge. "Whatever you say."

Tsunade drew back a little, searching his face. Something he said or did must have thrown her.

Iruka and Sakura glanced at Kakashi, but he only shrugged.

Not dwelling on it, Tsunade cleared the air with a wave of her hand. "Good. As long as you understand." Then, as if she had been waiting all day to say it, she faced Iruka fully. "We have a little something for you as well, Obou-san. Would you be offended if I asked you to abandon your robe while we mend it?" She gave him a small bow.

The return of her formal phrasing suggested Iruka actually had a choice. She might be blunt and impulsive, but this formidable woman seemed to value his position as a monk enough to give him that courtesy.

Iruka tried not to sound too eager as he bowed, "Not at all! Thank you again for your hospitality."

Tsunade beamed at his approval and presented him to Anko, "See? Monks aren't all that bad. We should visit Kurama-dera sometime."

Anko griped under her breath as they walked out together.

The trio, reunited and left to their own devices, looked at each other, perplexed.

Sakura flopped onto her back. "Finally!"

She rolled over and produced a hidden jug of saké she had clearly been hitting throughout the day.

Meanwhile, Iruka turned on Kakashi.

"What was that about?"

His bluntness took Kakashi by surprise, but he acclimated to it seamlessly.

He shrugged. "No clue."

Iruka glared, not convinced, "Really?"

Kakashi flashed a flirty grin, "Would I lie to you?"

Iruka let out a sigh. He wasn't sure Kakashi was genuinely unaware of Tsunade's meaning, or if he was simply lying by omission. Regardless, Iruka had very little confidence he could make the distinction.

She interrupted them as she chugged straight from the bottle's mouth. Iruka would have to set aside that bizarre interaction.

"It sounds like you've proven yourself, Umino-san." Sakura cackled at him, "Though I'm not sure how."

He let himself laugh with Sakura, shaking his head. "Me neither."

"Well, let's hope our luck sticks with us." She passed the drink to him and adopted a gloomy tone. "I haven't been able to ask about Yoroi at all. I'm worried it might lead whoever he was working for straight to me and the book if I'm not careful." She hiccoughed and grumbled, "Or worse, someone will rat me out to Tsunade. The sooner we get out of here, the sooner I can get some real work done!"

Sakura used the next few minutes to divulge the gauntlet she had faced in their time apart. How she had exhausted her supply of common herbs and would need to restock somewhere in the city if she hoped to make a profit. How Tsunade owed her a fortune for all her services. She vented to the older men until her complaints ran out and all that remained was delight at seeing some of the teahouse residents. There were many old friends she had missed in her time away. The elderly women working in the storehouse had stopped in to say hello. The envoys from the restaurants that hadn't seen her in years brought her lunch and dinner. The children had come to visit her en masse and nearly undid all her work to reorganize her medicines.

Just in time to hear her part of the story, Moegi's little voice chimed, "I'm sorry if we caused you any trouble."

Sakura, a little tipsy by now, flew to her side. "Of course not!" She hugged the small girl, rocking her. "I love you all so, so much."

Moegi went beet red. She squirmed out of Sakura's grip and presented a bundle of flashy red fabric she was carrying. "I helped pick it out."

Sakura took a gander at the gift and grimaced. She had no choice but to swallow her complaints. Even if Moegi was an envoy for Tsunade, the girl meant no harm. Furthermore, she had chosen it herself.

Sakura squealed in delight, "Thank you, Moegi! It's beautiful."

Moegi searched for a moment, then called out the door, "Udon!"

His glasses slipped into view.

"Get in here!"

He slumped inside with a pile of black fabric and three wooden wash tubs. Iruka knew their purpose right away and nearly cried.

Moegi's words confirmed his wildest dreams. "Tsunade-sama has arranged for you to visit the bathhouse. We'll escort you."

Sakura snatched up new wrappings for Iruka and they followed after the children. All pain and discomfort Iruka had been feeling vanished. He could barely contain his enthusiasm as they were led out of the teahouse.

There were two tall women on each side of the noren entrance. At a glance Iruka almost mistook them for statues. But after probing he realized not only were they alive, they were also heavily armed. At one side sat an old woman—the teahouse's kind and welcoming greeter. She sipped on a cup of tea at a small, decorated folding table.

Sakura and the children said their goodbyes to the woman and the group stepped back into the pleasure quarter.

The higher ground of the teahouse was a stone island that kept them apart from the thriving sea of life below. Even at a glance, Iruka knew he preferred this chaos to the snobbish decorum currently infecting the teahouse.

The floating world had arisen in full force. The streets were packed and the red lanterns were aglow. Iruka's mouth watered at the smell of food wafting up. Merchants and vendors called out their fares while jingling the bells hanging from their carts to draw their customers. Iruka was impressed at how well the teahouse barred the sounds from outside.

Kakashi was skeptically sulking behind them. He asked Sakura, "I thought you couldn't leave without an escort?"

Sakura sighed and gestured to the kids. "Tsunade couldn't have picked a better leash."

After considering it, Iruka couldn't agree more. Giving some guards the slip wouldn't make a difference to him, but he couldn't stand the idea of the children being punished in their stead.

Before Iruka was fully prepared, they joined the flood. The children navigated fearlessly until they found their place in the flow of people. The pedestrians wove in with one another as if they were obeying unspoken choreography.

Iruka didn't think the surge of people would ever end, but the crowd thinned as they moved away from the quarter's center. He hadn't been paying much attention to where they were until he found himself looking up at the great red arch at the entrance of the floating world.

The torii stood high above the people. At its legs were a few discrete guards. They faced outside and inspected those entering, checking for weapons or a hint of ill intent. When an armed guest or suspicious character wandered in, the guards responded with a subtle signal. Someone at the edge of the road would peel away from the bars and fall in line behind the patron to stalk them.

Kakashi was impressed.

"She's not slacking with security, I'll give her that," he commented. "You'd think they'd be watching the people leaving."

"Why?" Iruka asked over the clamor.

Kakashi speculated, "They used to worry about who might be trying to escape. But I guess that time is long gone."

As they stepped out of the quarter's limits, the lights dimmed to almost nothing. The pleasant heat, the pristine atmosphere, dissolved.

There was no one walking the streets. No pedestrians, no merchants.

Despite the spaciousness of the street, the children huddled together until their shoulders brushed. Sakura kept close behind, putting a hand on Moegi's back, encouraging them to go faster.

The occasional glowing ball of a lantern would saturate the dark street in its faltering light, but it only made the shadows more sinister. Dread loomed at the edges of their sight. Sleepy cicadas wheezed from somewhere nearby. Their unexpected rattle made the group flinch.

"Where's the bathhouse?"

Udon answered quietly, "Not far."

Iruka glanced to the gate of the pleasure quarter as it shrank behind them. Light poured into the street, but it was devoured without mercy.

There was a clatter down the road to his left.

Kakashi heard it as well and stopped the front of their party.

Their focus narrowed down the road, aided only by sparse moonlight.

There were raised voices coming from some unseen place, grunts and shouting. Then a body burst out of an alley.

A man tumbled onto the road, moaning. He held his side and struggled to stand with no success. Then another was kicked into the opening, pursued by a group of four men. All were armed with a wakizashi or tanto. The kicked man staggered up, putting himself between the thugs and his injured companion.

Seeing their odds, Iruka stepped decisively forward.

It was Moegi who stopped him.

She barred him with her small, trembling arm. She dug in her sleeve while Udon forced them to the side of the closest building and blocked them from view of the skirmish.

"We should go!" he whispered harshly.

"Wait!"

Moegi fumbled in her sleeve a moment longer then produced a small bamboo whistle. Sakura instantly reached to interfere. Once alerted, the thugs would be on them and any chance of surprise would be gone.

Before Sakura could stop her, Moegi pressed her knuckle to the open end of the whistle and blew into it.

Sakura winced, preparing herself, but the sound was soft. Moegi moved her knuckle, mimicking a bird's quiet chirps.

It seemed impossible that anyone would notice the whistle at all.

Unless, that is, someone was listening for it.

A far off guard leaned their head out from under the gate, ears perked. They spoke with someone behind them. Moegi made the small sound again, imitating a nightingale's song. The guard stepped into the road, flagging down a few others to join them and investigate.

Moegi and Udon pulled the adults into the guard's line of sight and waved wildly.

The guards spotted the group and ran at them, drawing their swords. Moegi pointed down the street. She made another small song on her whistle, then four distinct chirps to count out the thugs.

Moegi and Udon pushed the trio further out of the way as the guards barreled past.

The guards let out a battle cry as they rounded the corner.

Iruka tugged against Moegi, "Shouldn't we help?"

Kakashi's arm circled his lower back, ushering him on.

"It's their business, not ours. We'll only get in the way."

Sakura nodded in agreement, taking Moegi's hand. She hobbled down the road on her expensive shoes as they came to a near sprint.

Udon shrugged, "It happens all the time. We're used to it."

Moegi elbowed him. "As if! Your legs are shaking."

Udon snapped at her. "I was fine until you blew that stupid thing! You're lucky it's the guards that heard you."

"Did you have a better idea?"

He trudged on, "If you ignore them, they ignore you."

Kakashi sighed, reminiscing. "Now _this_ is the Enten I know."

As they rounded the street, a woman came dashing their way with her weapon at the ready.

She slowed, checking in with the harmless looking bunch. "Did you see something? Has something happened?"

Sakura answered, "There's a fight down the road—"

That was enough. The woman dashed past them toward the skirmish.

After a moment of silence, Moegi turned to Udon.

"See?"

He glowered, "What?"

She waggled the whistle in front of his face. "It works."

He swatted for it, but she pulled it out of reach.

He gave a grumpy puff and stomped ahead.

The children led along the path where the guard had appeared from. After passing more deserted streets and darkening walkways, they finally found a pool of light and relief washed over the group.

They had circled the outer limits of Tsunade's quarter. Here at the edge of the floating world was a pocket of bars, restaurants, and inns.

It was then that Iruka realized what the pleasure quarter truly was. Despite its lofty name, Tsunade's domain was settled within the larger artisan quarter. It was occupied by the workshops and homes of craftsmen, metalworkers, and other specialized artists who didn't want to or couldn't afford to compete within Tsunade's bubble.

Iruka noticed a few alert individuals staring down the way they came. They talked quietly to one another, debating if they too should survey the area.

It was a well populated street which put Iruka at ease.

He searched the buildings for any indication of a bathhouse to no avail. When they did arrive, Iruka was amazed the children had identified it from the storefronts.

The only indicator was a small wooden fence and gate, pushed back from the edge of the street. A wobbly cobblestone path guided them in, lined with weeds that barely passed for flowers.

They passed through the gate into the cluttered, claustrophobic garden and the bathhouse revealed itself.

The front of the building was draped in fully blossomed purple wisteria. The gable of the small building was arched in the front, in the karahafu style that Iruka recognized from the shrine at his temple. The tile was gray with age and the wooden walls were worn. The path led to the front entrance and they pushed through the curtain of the establishment.

Inside was an old man resting his head on a counter that was almost too tall for him. He was snoring lightly.

"Ossan? Hello, Ossan?" Udon approached the counter and knocked on it until the old man perked up with a start.

At the sight of Sakura and the children, his face wrinkled with an all-encompassing smile.

"Maido, maido!" His accent was thick, one Iruka recognized from the mountains. He ducked his little head to Sakura, "Iyaa, Beppin-san! Good to see ya!" He had a small goatee, and more hair on his eyebrows than there was in the tuff on the back of his head.

Sakura giggled, "It's been a while, Fukasaku-san!" She took note of the large noren curtains labeled men and women's. "Did you separate the bath?"

He waved his hand and shook his floppy head. "Chaun chau, we stuck'em there t'make the officials happy." Then he saw Iruka, "Ah, Bon-san, is that alright wit'cha? We can put in'a divider if ya like."

"Ossan, this is from Tsunade-sama." Moegi put down their fee for the bath, but the old man pushed it right back.

"I wouldn't dare, missy." He stretched his little arm to give her a pat. "Get'cha sumthin' nice, yeah?"

He detected a bit of fear in Moegi and reassured her.

"M'boy can go wit'cha, if ya like. Keep ya comp'ny."

To that she nodded thankfully.

"Tou-chan!" A loud voice came from the rear of the building, making Fukasaku flinch. His wife came rolling through the corner, wielding a cutting knife. "Tou-chan, if ya miss ma'dinner again I'll fillet ya! Let Gamakichi sit in while ya eat!" She saw the visitors and hid the knife behind her with a gasp. "Ya ol' fart, why didn'cha say we had guests!? Maido, maido!" She bowed repeatedly, stepping closer and closer to the counter so she could stow the knife out of sight.

"Good evening, Shima-san."

When she saw Sakura, her arms shot up—sans knife. "Sakura-chan! How are ya!?" She grabbed the woman in a crushing hug. "Come in, come in! The bath's refreshin', even on a hot day!"

She pushed the men through their curtain and led Sakura into hers.

Udon stood just outside the men's section waiting for Iruka to hand over his kimono, which didn't give him much time to think about stripping. He gently placed the prayer beads in the basket meant for personal belongings, then yanked off his clothes. Before he could get very far, something toppled to the floor.

Shizune's book.

He picked it up and stared at the blank cover.

Maybe he was paranoid, but he didn't feel comfortable just leaving it in the basket set out for him. Iruka took a quick glance for a place to stow the book while they bathed.

Eventually he settled for a spot on the top shelf under a stack of unused towels. He would need to find a more permanent home for it once they were back at Tsunade's teahouse. With so many rooms, Iruka was certain he could find one suitable for hiding a book.

He heard Udon knock impatiently on the doorframe. Iruka scrabbled to finish undressing and collect his things. He struggled with his bound arm, but managed to fold everything before trading his stack with the boy who promptly disappeared out of sight. Iruka held the new clothes away from himself and with care, as if his filthiness would contaminate them. After placing them in his basket, he finished removing his undergarments. He sat with a sigh and flung a towel over his lap. It was then he remembered he was not alone.

At the shrine, Iruka had grown up bathing with men of all ages. All shapes and sizes. There should be nothing to be nervous about. Nothing. Kakashi was just another man.

No amount of rationalization could keep Iruka's stomach from dropping when he examined Kakashi with his hair loose at his shoulders and sporting nothing but a towel tied at his waist. His face was in plain view and hosting a smirk, the small beauty mark lifting with it.

Either Iruka was still drunk, or the steam from the bath in the other room was giving Kakashi's pale skin an ephemeral glow. There was a beautiful, shallow line down the center of his stomach, hinting at the muscles hiding beneath his slender figure. It traced through his navel and below, leading Iruka to the edge of Kakashi's towel before he realized he was openly staring.

He immediately looked down at his own which he had yet to secure.

He should have taken off the heavy wrap on his shoulder before removing his kimono, but he had been too rushed to think clearly. Terrified Kakashi would "help", Iruka scrambled to tie the towel with his one good hand and came to standing.

Kakashi seemed particularly amused by Iruka's flustered display, which only made Iruka more nervous.

The other distractions out of the way, Kakashi's tattoos were finally out in the open for Iruka to ogle. Draped over the man's shoulders were long feathers. They were ash colored—frayed and blown apart as if in a storm—with tips that faded into a porcelain white. They brushed his collar bones in such a delicate way that they seemed to hover just off his skin. Iruka noticed small pools of red woven underneath. He subconsciously reached to touch them.

Seeming not to mind, Kakashi stepped into Iruka's hand.

There were petals. Beautiful red velvet petals.

Iruka jolted awake as Kakashi started to undo his shoulder wrap.

"Let me get this."

Kakashi was already hard at work before Iruka could stop him. To Iruka's relief, Kakashi was quick to remove all the bandages without teasing him. Once free, he stretched his limbs a little and there was notable improvement. Iruka celebrated wordlessly, beaming at Kakashi as he carefully moved his shoulder.

Kakashi folded the wrap and other bindings diligently and sat them with Iruka's things.

Kakashi snickered at his vivacity. "You look much better."

Feeling validated, Iruka took a moment to check his injuries. His leg in particular had healed over nicely since he last inspected it. Even if he couldn't submerge himself in the bath, he had every intention of going in as far as he dared.

He couldn't help but grin. "It is doing well, isn't it."

Kakashi pulled the noren open for Iruka to go through first. The wooden frame of the door was low to keep in the steam and Iruka had to duck to get inside. He had been expecting a cramped wooden bath, but was absolutely elated to see that within the bustling of a modern city, they had stumbled upon a traditional—albeit small—hot spring bath. He stepped off the wood onto cool stone.

Sakura had already cleaned herself and was lounging in the deep, silky water. The bath had a few guests in it already, but Iruka was glad to have missed the crowd. It had been far too long since he'd cleaned himself properly and he wanted to do so in privacy.

An elderly couple was soaking with their towels sitting on their heads, and a wooden tray floating close by with saké on it. A group of men were laughing in the corner of the bath and their sound echoed happily in the room. Listening from the outside, one would assume it was a normal bathhouse.

And it would have been, if each and every one of the guest wasn't sporting full body tattoos.

If Tsunade's face tattoo hadn't been some indication of her affiliations, this bathhouse certainly was. It conjured Sakura's warning from the night before—what felt like days ago now. With her connections, the god of fortune could bury them.

Considering their present company, Iruka wondered how literal that threat was.

Another bought of joyful laughter came from the huddle of men. They were clearly congratulating one of their group—whose face scrunched in modest pride. Meanwhile the aged couple, both covered in inked designs, were speaking to one another in loving, hushed voices. The older woman placed her hand over her partner's and squeezed it lightly.

Iruka was embarrassed by his conditioned fear. What was the harm in having a few tattoos?

These people seemed much more approachable than the teahouse's clients.

He took a closer look at the cute elderly couple and saw a very peaceful tattoo on the first older woman. Her back beheld golden gingko trees with a serene deer staring up at them. The contemplative image struck Iruka's heart with inspiration. He switched eagerly to examine the partnering tattoo and was greeted by a scene swallowed in flames. Next he saw the lifeless expression of some poor man. His neck was in the mouth of a terrifying tiger, who burst from the fire in a torrent of wind.

Yet there they sat, the deer and the tiger, casually touching. Their wrinkled hands folded into one another's like perfect puzzle pieces.

And upon listening closer to the group of men—whose tattoos were equally striking—it was clear one of them had just become a father. Just the mention of his new baby's squishy cheeks brought a tear to his eye.

Iruka sighed into a laugh.

He sat down to wash himself off and Kakashi knelt beside him to do the same.

Speaking of tattoos, Iruka put forth a pathetic effort to be subtle as he watched Kakashi fill his basin and drench himself in hot water.

The feathers of a thousand birds spread over every inch of Kakashi's back. There were a handful of red peonies dancing among them in the illusion of a breeze. Tattered petals were scattered in the inking. The flowers were splayed open, unraveling their beauty in a spiral. Studying closer, Iruka could tell Kakashi was covered in pale scars that had been incorporated into the design.

When Kakashi bent to fill his basin again, the identity of the feathers became clear. They were cranes' wings. The layering—gray, white, and black—sprouted from the seam of his back and rounded over his sides.

The world seemed to narrow to the curve of Kakashi's spine. The loosened silver hair on his shoulders glistened in the bath's effervescent lantern light. The muscles at Kakashi's hips followed the brush of wings and perfectly accentuated his waist. Iruka was helpless to trail the lines of the man's body. The droplets pooled at his collar bone only to spill over his chest in shimmering streams. Water dripped from his toned stomach and pattered onto the towel across his lap. Iruka was entranced by the journey, stopping at the tuft of hair peeking out below the man's navel.

Iruka leaned his head back, forcing himself to stare at the ceiling instead. He poured a bucket of water onto his face. As he drenched himself, he imagined he was conducting a spiritual cleansing. He reviewed what scraps of mantras he had picked up over the years and repeated them to himself.

In need of a better diversion, Iruka snatched up a pumice stone sitting nearby that was clearly left for the guests and began scrubbing. The scraping pain was a welcome and effective distraction. Iruka was determined to clear all the dirt and grime he had accrued and felt a sense of accomplishment with every pass of the bucket that washed away more and more filth. After some hard work, he rubbed his arm and reveled in its smoothness.

Suddenly there were hands on his back.

"Excuse me, Okyaku-san. Would you like some assistance?"

Iruka flinched and turned to a beautiful, naked—completely naked—woman rubbing his shoulders.

He scanned the bath in an embarrassed panic and quickly realized he wasn't the only one being approached. There was a young man at Sakura's side pouring saké for her, clearly employed by the owner. Even the elderly couple had a woman checking in on them. Iruka must have been too occupied by the tattooed guests to notice.

Iruka stammered loudly, drawing out of the server's reach. "I—um. No, that's—"

Kakashi placed a hand on Iruka's shoulder. He graciously put Iruka's blundering into words with a smile that charmed the woman at once. "He's doing just fine, thank you."

The woman blushed at Kakashi's intense gaze, bowed slightly, and sought another customer to attend to. She stared at Kakashi wistfully as she went.

Kakashi got up from his stool. Iruka expected the man to head off to the bath, but instead Iruka felt a hand graze across his upper back from behind.

"Do you mind? I'll avoid your shoulder."

Iruka shook his head fervently before he could realize Kakashi's meaning. Kakashi's cool hand skimmed across his skin in the same motion as the server, but the shiver that shot through Iruka was unmistakably different. His head already buzzing, he lifted the pumice stone hesitantly.

"That's alright. I wouldn't want to hurt your skin." He continued to rub Iruka's back, working his thumbs into the tense muscles of his shoulders, but avoiding his injury.

Iruka laughed dizzily. He wasn't sure he'd survive Kakashi's tender touch.

"I can take it."

"If you say so." His voice came frightfully close, breath brushing Iruka's ear, "Hand me the bucket."

Kakashi poured a thin trickle at Iruka's shoulders and spread the water with his hand. He rubbed over the skin, presumably to assess its level of cleanliness. He had only just begun and Iruka could feel blood rushing to his face.

The pumice stone had been a mistake.

At the first gentle scrape of the stone, Iruka almost gave a vocal reaction. Kakashi ground the stone into him with delicacy. He knew if he was too firm, and it would damage Iruka's skin. The lingering track of roughness was healed by the chill of Kakashi's following hand. He methodically cleaned the places Iruka couldn't reach. The valley of Iruka's spine, his shoulder blades. Kakashi kneaded the muscles beneath and between as he went. All with painful attention to detail. It was as if Kakashi's fingers brought out the sun living in Iruka's tan skin. The heat continued to build until a veil of liquid fire had coated his whole body. Iruka had to actively suppressing sound that wanted to slip out. The only thing keeping his thoughts somewhat together was the occasional cleansing rush of water from the bucket.

When Kakashi finished, he encouraged Iruka to lean back his head so he could wash his hair. Iruka obeyed without hesitation and his head fell into Kakashi's hands. The bath was hazy, not that Iruka could focus enough to see anything anyway. Kakashi massaged his scalp, pressing the pads of his fingers in slow hypnotic circles. Iruka clenched his fist into his knee and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to control the pounding in his chest.

Then Kakashi soaked his hair with a bucket of unnecessarily cold water. Iruka's body clenched involuntarily and he opened his eyes in shock. Kakashi suppressed a chuckle at Iruka's resulting glare. Kakashi rinsed it again for good measure.

His head suddenly clear, Iruka realized how hard his heart was pounding. His toes were clenching the stone floor.

Kakashi ran his hand through Iruka's hair, gently pulling out the water and cradling the ends until they were only dripping. Iruka breathed into the tug of Kakashi's fingers and eased his shoulders. He gave up and released an audible sigh.

Iruka had been reborn.

Looking rather satisfied, Kakashi smiled. "I guess we should go in."

Iruka's eyes fixated once more as Kakashi thumbed toward the bath.

Gaping up at Kakashi, Iruka subconsciously licked his lips. The identity of that urge became blaringly obvious as arousal shivered through him. He was itching with the desire to pull Kakashi into him and give the man a taste of the excruciating attention Kakashi had so kindly provided.

Gripping down on that impulse, he finally answered Kakashi by nodding fervently.

Though the man's expression was naturally more controlled, Iruka saw an echo of his own hollow hunger in Kakashi's droopy eyes.

Kakashi sat down the basin and walked ahead, unintentionally giving Iruka full view of his tattooed back. Iruka trailed behind the man, shamelessly staring all the way.

On the left where Kakashi's heart sat in his chest, there was a small cluster of sleek black feathers blended in with the rest. These wings were smaller, unmistakably those of a crow. They cluttered together to cradle a single treasure.

A single white bloom, too young to open, had been sliced in half by a deep scar.

He didn't see it before, but there was something else strange about the design. Of the peonies, there were a few small buds exposing their bright yellow center. However their petals were rounded, morphing them to be less like peonies and more like camellia—an omen of death in the eyes of the samurai.

Iruka wasn't the only one who noticed this. A few others in the bath frowned at the ominous flowers as Kakashi went into the water.

Iruka had just slipped his foot into the bath when Sakura stopped him from across the room.

"Umino-san, you shouldn't soak. The heat will inflame your shoulder."

Iruka froze and his heart cracked. He obediently removed his foot from the warmth, and then stood back to stare longingly at the water.

After a moment of painful silence, Kakashi broke in. "Come on, sensei. He was so excited."

He and Sakura took in Iruka's pathetic dejection. Sakura wrestled with herself for a moment. The healer in her was vehemently opposed, but faced with Iruka's weepy eyes, she was utterly defeated.

"Fine. Just your legs! And don't stay in too long!"

Iruka lit up instantly. He was practically shaking as he slowly dipped in, enjoying every second of it. Kakashi laughed in the background. The steam was just thick enough that Iruka didn't feel as self-conscious about his marks and bruises. Taking into account what kind of bathhouse they were in, he was sure they would be mistaken for odd tattoos.

He wanted to soak fully and stretched his shoulder in the water, but that would have to wait until his wounds were gone. Even so, he could feel the bath working its magic through what little he could submerge.

At least his spirit was being healed. Inflammation be damned.

He could tell Kakashi hadn't stopped watching him with those impish eyes.

"How is it, Obou-san?"

Iruka gave a long, blissful sigh. "Perfect. I haven't been to a bath like this in a long time. There's an onsen near my temple." He shut his eyes, letting the blanket of steam envelop him. "It's my favorite place in the world."

"Is it bigger than this?"

"It's massive. It was carved out of the mountainside. In winter the whole place is buried in snow." He chuckled, "I could spend hours in there, just to watch the sun set."

To this, Kakashi said nothing. Iruka peeked to see why and was met with Kakashi's dark eye observing him. But it was not with mocking as he expected.

Iruka hoped the steam of the bath hid his blush.

"It sounds beautiful. I'll have to see it for myself someday."

His time in the bath passed too quickly and before long Sakura was demanding that Iruka get out, lest he cause damage to his injuries.

They left the bath and donned their fresh clothes. Kakashi was dressed with his mask on before Iruka could blink. In fact, Iruka couldn't remember seeing Kakashi fold his kimono in the first place.

He was a little startled when one of the bath attendants poked their head in to pass Iruka a new wrap and set of bandages sent by Sakura. She apparently was occupied changing into the expensive kimono Tsunade had forced on her. The very impressive set of formal monk robes Udon had left included a teacher's brown rakusu, a garment that Iruka had absolutely no right to wear. But considering he was already this deep in his web of lies, why not? How Tsunade had come to possess such items, Iruka had no desire to know. When he tied himself in and pulled on the new tabi socks, he felt like a new man.

He snagged the book from its hiding place before he forgot, and they were out the door.

Sakura stood by the entryway in her kimono. It was bright red with stark white lilies decorating the sleeves and hem. Her obi was a warm yellow similar to Tsunade's kimono and patterned by white and gold lined hexagons reminiscent of a turtle's shell. There was a female worker hounding after her to better secure her obi knot. Sakura batted at the woman to give it a rest. The gruff doctor was clearly out of her element, but her appearance was breathtaking nonetheless. Iruka couldn't help but feel a little proud of her.

They came to the counter where the old couple was snuggled together, talking kindly in hushed voices. When they saw the group make their way out, the two called out in unison.

"Come again soon!"

Sakura teetered like a baby dear out of the bathhouse on the very beautiful black wedged geta she had been provided. Iruka had been given new shoes as well. They were zori of a much higher quality than anything available on Mt. Kurama. With their flashy dress, Iruka was sure their group looked even more bizarre than before.

Moegi was waiting for them outside. She was dozing on her feet at the gate with a half-eaten fried treat in her hand.

"Where's Udon?"

"He was getting sleepy so I let him go back with Ossan's son." She yawned and stretched, "I didn't want to make him wait."

With a sigh, Sakura reached to carry the girl. Kakashi stopped her and pulled the child onto his back without difficulty.

Tsunade had chosen their escort well. There was no better ball and chain than a trusting child.

Their walk was luxuriously slow to accommodate Sakura and Kakashi, giving Iruka ample time to inspect the little puddle of civilization.

The crowd had died down to almost nothing. The patrons had either gone to their homes or to their house of chosen indulgence within Tsunade's quarter. They passed bars and restaurants where songs and music came and went.

Sakura recognized one such place and pointed, "Let's rest for a bit."

They moseyed into the restaurant. It was a tiny shop with a bar that enfolded the cook in a "U" shape. Standing tall on the other side was a heavy man in a short green kimono with swirling red tattoos on his cheeks. From under his impressive beard he greeted their entrance by bellowing, "Irasshaimase!"

Sakura staggered in and sat down. "Have any agebitashi, Chouji? Or some cold somen?"

"I have both, Okyaku-san!—" It took him a moment before he recognize her, "Sakura-chan? What a surprise! I've never seen you dressed up before. What's the occasion?"

Sakura sat her large forehead on the wood of the bar. "My funeral." Then she raised her hand weakly, "Agebitashi, please."

Chouji laughed heartily. "Agabitashi coming up."

Kakashi chimed in after laying Moegi down on a bench against the wall, "I'll have cold somen."

"Gotcha. Any saké?"

Sakura shook her head. "We can't stay too long."

"Next time, then." He got to work right away. "And you, Obou-san?"

Iruka was well beyond the point of correcting anyone.

"Do you have ramen?"

"What would you like?"

Iruka hesitated before saying, "Pork and egg, the rest I'll leave to you."

Sakura rolled her head to slant at him. "If you like ramen, we definitely have to go to Ichiraku before you leave. It's the best in the country. No offense, Chouji."

"None taken!" Chouji pushed back his sleeves and tied them. "Mine's not as good as all that, but I'll do my best!"

The food was ready in no time and they dug in.

Sakura wailed after swallowing a mouthful of saucy eggplant. "I don't understand why we're waiting until the teahouse closes."

"Maybe Tsunade-sama doesn't want to disturb her guests."

Sakura wasn't satisfied, "Well, why did I have to get dressed up? It makes no sense."

Kakashi gave her a playful side glance. "Maybe the old hag is messing with you."

Sakura burst out laughing, then earnestly cautioned him, "She'd kill you if she ever heard you call her that."

He arranged the perfect bite before saying, "She can try."

Iruka recalled Kakashi's exchange with Tsunade before they left the teahouse, "What did Tsunade-sama mean earlier? Did you do something to make her angry?"

Kakashi shrugged. "We've crossed paths before. I guess I did something she didn't approve of."

"And that would be…?"

Kakashi picked up on his frustration and apologized, "Sorry, Iruka. I honestly have no idea."

Sakura jumped in, oblivious. "It doesn't take much to piss her off. I wouldn't take it too personally." She pat Iruka, "Thank you, by the way, for saving me from Anko. She's a nightmare. I meant to ask you before. What were you doing in my room—?" She shuffled for the right word, "office—prison?"

He had forgotten to tell her, "I was… sensing some spirit stuff and it led me there."

"I thought you didn't know how to do that?"

Iruka shrugged. He hadn't foreseen being so useful either.

Sakura laughed aloud, "That's amazing!" Then she reconsidered, "Then why on earth was Anko being so touchy?"

"Isn't she…" Iruka dithered, "always like that?" Anko didn't care for Iruka or Kakashi, or anyone for that matter. At least she tolerated the children enough to be nice to them. Iruka added, "There might be something haunting Tsunade-sama's storage under the teahouse. At least that's what she thinks. I'm sure Anko-san's not happy about us snooping around."

Kakashi sat up with a start.

"OH!"

The other two jerked in their seats.

Kakashi tapped his chin and rifled through his thoughts. After some searching, he landed on the answer and his face immediately lit up.

"What?" Iruka asked. "What is it?"

Kakashi realized they were both keenly waiting for his answer and instantly clamped down.

"I—Um…" He was still sparkling with excitement. Iruka could see the moment when Kakashi decided to lock away the secret in his brain. "It's nothing."

Iruka retorted with a little impatience, "It's obviously not nothing! What is it?"

"I just remembered something funny, that's all."

Iruka scowled, thoroughly displeased.

His agitation made Kakashi laugh. He glossed his hand over Iruka's arm and effortlessly brought back the searing heat of the bathhouse to the forefront of Iruka's mind. He leaned close to speak in Iruka's ear.

"It's a secret," he whispered. Then he leaned back and bopped Iruka's nose. "I'll tell you later."

He wasn't convinced, but was too overwhelmed by a radiating blush to care anymore. He realized he was pouting and he tried to shake it off. He would follow through with Kakashi's invitation to interrogate him the next time they were alone. If he could focus long enough to do so.

Sakura sat at the side a little pink, amazed by what had developed in the course of a day.

Iruka finished the bowl before him and sat it up on the higher counter for Chouji to take.

"Gochisousama."

The other two said their thanks as well when they finished. That was about the time Iruka realized he had had left his money in the teahouse. He gave an apologetic look to Sakura. Kakashi joined in with a shrug as he hoisted the sleeping Moegi off the bench again.

Sakura grumbled as she paid for them all.

"Thanks, Chouji. I'll come back when I have more time."

"You're always welcome! Have a good night."

Just as they slid the door open, a noble with his hair formally tied up stepped in with a sigh. He was the personification of exhaustion on all accounts. His eyebrows were knit together with a grimace etched in his face.

"Shikamaru! Irashai!"

Without a word, he bowed to Sakura and made room for them to pass. She returned the gesture and then gave a little wave before scurrying out.

"Good to see you, Shikamaru."

The man was absolutely flabbergasted. He gaped after Sakura, trying to put two and two together.

Once they were out of earshot, Iruka asked, "Who was that?"

"A childhood friend." She snickered, "I can't believe he bowed to me. He's never done that before in his life." She held her sleeve, a little impressed by the kimono's magic. Then she went on, "Shikamaru's a good guy, but an oddball. He's the only one of the daimyo's entourage I've ever known to step foot in the pleasure quarter."

She abruptly stopped and pivoted in the dirt.

"What is it?"

She smiled brightly at Iruka and Kakashi, "Just a second! I'll be right back."

She teetered to the bar and slipped inside.

Iruka and Kakashi decided to sit on a bench outside one of the other bars while they waited.

They observed the lethargic street in silence. Iruka was just wondering if now was the time to question Kakashi when he heard a whimper.

Moegi, still sleeping on Kakashi's back, had tears gathering in the corners of her closed eyes. Her shoulders shook weakly with her small sobs.

Kakashi sought Iruka's help immediately.

Iruka was already reaching for the child with his good hand. He gently pat her back.

He roused the girl, saying, "Moegi-chan, you're dreaming. It's okay."

The girl's eyes opened slowly, then she gasped awake. Tears poured over her flushed cheeks.

Despite his injuries, Iruka pulled her effortlessly from Kakashi and into his lap. Moegi instinctively curled into Iruka's chest.

Iruka pet the girl's hair. "Was it a bad dream?"

She shook her head.

"What's wrong?"

The girl said nothing. Her crying eased as she became more awake. She simply rested against Iruka, trying to hide her embarrassment.

Iruka rubbed her shoulder gently, encouraging her. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

The girl shook her head again. She burrowed into his chest, her voice almost completely muffled.

Her answer broke in half a sob. "I don't want to leave."

Iruka was reminded of the fishing family waiting for Moegi. The new life that Tsunade had arranged for her.

Barely above a whisper, she said, "I'll never see my friends again."

He sighed, wrapping Moegi in a hug.

"Of course you will."

"What—" her voice hitched, "—if they forget me?"

Iruka shook his head, "They won't forget you, Moegi-chan—they love you. You'll miss them and they'll miss you." As he spoke to her, he fought a tinge of melancholy. He held the girl and said what he wished someone had told him a long time ago, "And when it's too much to bear, you'll just have to come back and see them."

She released into a sob, "It's too far away."

Iruka squeezed the shaking child, cradling her.

"Nothing is too far." He smiled as he said again, "Nothing." He took the girl's cheek with his good hand to get a better look at her face. It was a soggy mess. He laughed and wiped it with his sleeve. "It's hard to say goodbye, isn't it? And it can be a little scary, too."

"Yeah." Moegi's lip quivered. She swelled with tears.

Iruka chuckled as he caught them.

"But that's okay," he quickly said. "It's okay to be afraid. It's okay to be sad. You don't have to hide it." As he spoke, she smiled meekly with him. "Because you might not be the only one who feels that way."

She sniffled and drowsily dried her tears. "Yeah."

"Go back to sleep, Moegi-chan." He let her lean on him. "You can talk to your friends tomorrow, okay?"

She nodded, head heavy, "Okay."

After a few deep breaths, Moegi fell dead asleep once more.

Iruka let out a relieved sigh.

Kakashi was fixed on Iruka in amazement.

Iruka whispered to him, half laughing. "That spooked me."

"You really are a teacher."

"Was," he corrected.

Kakashi sat back with new found admiration, "You're amazing."

Iruka denied it, "I wouldn't say that. I spent most of the time yelling at my students."

Kakashi huffed. "They love you."

That embarrassed Iruka. He floundered, noting the sleeping Moegi, "She's a good kid. But a classroom is a totally different story. Like this morning. No matter how hard I try, sometimes they're determined not to listen." He glared at Kakashi, "You—on the other hand… They practically worshiped you. You'd be great with my class."

"I doubt it. I'm not as nice as you."

"They'd respect you, at least. It's better than what I can manage."

There was almost a hint of disappointment in his voice, "Being cool doesn't make you a good teacher."

Iruka sputtered a laugh, shocking Kakashi.

Kakashi looked about as if he had missed something. "What?"

By all appearances, Kakashi was a smooth customer. A smoky glance from him would make anyone's heart skip a beat. Iruka was sure the server from the bathhouse would agree.

Regardless, "It's just funny to call yourself 'cool'."

All that bravado shattered in an instant when a look of genuine embarrassment crossed Kakashi's face.

"I didn't mean…" His mask couldn't hide the flush of color blooming on his cheekbones. "I-I just—that's what I figured it was. I've heard people say it before. Am I not?"

The red and flustered Kakashi had Iruka quivering with choked laughter as he said it again, "Cool?"

He tried to keep from shaking Moegi awake. Kakashi waited with pink cheeks for Iruka to get ahold of himself.

He couldn't help snickering along with Iruka, "I guess saying it myself sort of disqualifies me."

"Yeah, just a little."

They sat chuckling to themselves like idiots until Iruka simmered down.

"Unbelievable," Iruka muttered with a smile stuck on his face.

He took in the occasional person walking by. In the scope of it all, they were two out of hundreds of thousands. Two insignificant men sitting on a bench. It should have made Iruka feel small, but the opposite was true.

Iruka couldn't remember the last time he felt this whole. This happy.

Moegi shifted in his lap and Iruka tweaked his side, making him cringe.

Kakashi swept in to lift the girl off him. "Let me take her."

The groggy girl adjusted herself, wrapping her arms around Kakashi's neck. Then she went back to her soft snore. Iruka brushed away the hair that had fallen into her face while Kakashi caged her close. As if she would noodle her way out of his arms if he didn't.

His silver hair glistened in the lantern light. He stretched a leg, tapping his foot in an attempt to rock the child. Iruka saw the anxious smile hiding under the thin mask. It made him seem much younger.

He was trying so hard to do the right thing. It was painfully endearing to witness.

Iruka propped his head on his hand, saying casually, "You are."

Kakashi noticed him and hummed curiously, "What?"

"Don't worry, you are cool."

Kakashi grinned ear to ear, immediately smug. "Is that so?"

Iruka continued to assess him—fearlessly staring—and Kakashi made a flawless transition from haughty to smoldering in a matter of seconds.

Warmth rose in Iruka's cheeks and he confirmed it. "Yeah, you are." He leaned heavily into his hand and out of nowhere found himself saying, "We have to come back to the bath when I'm healed up. I was not satisfied with my visit."

Kakashi was puzzled by the shift in topic, more so by Iruka's strange determination.

Then he laughed. "I think that can be arranged."

The clopping of shoes broke the spell. Teetering their way was Sakura in her red kimono accompanied by the young man from the restaurant.

Sakura dragged her childhood friend behind her who was projecting reluctance with every inch of his body.

"I think I found your guy." She waved at Iruka and Kakashi to get up. "Come on, we'll tell you on the way."

The member of the daimyo's entourage bellyached behind her, "Do I really have to come?"

Sakura mocked surprise, "Are you saying you'd let a young lady and a sleeping child—" She glanced at Iruka and he was added as an afterthought, "—and an injured monk walk through Enten alone at this time of night? The daimyo would be ashamed."

"I was in the middle of something."

"Isn't protecting people part of your job?"

"I was _doing_ my job."

"Drinking with Chouji?"

He clamored a little defensively, "I was gathering intel—!" Then Shikamaru pointed at Kakashi. "—Besides you've got him, don't you? What do you need me for?" He whined under his breath, "I'm the one that has to walk back alone—"

Sakura elbowed him, "Just come on."

As they left the well-lit street and walked into the darkened neighborhoods, Sakura pried information out of Shikamaru.

There was a dojo master in Enten that apparently held a strong connection to both the daimyo and the Inari Shrine. There was a possibility that he had been working at the shrine when it was destroyed.

This must be the person Sakura hoped would help Iruka. It had slipped his mind with all that was happening at the teahouse and once more he was hit with shame like a punch in the gut. This pain was much sharper. He felt the weight of Asuma's prayer beads sink into him.

How could he forget his reason for coming to Enten?

"He sounds a little eccentric," Sakura added proudly, "but if there was ever an impartial ally to make, it's this guy." She laughed to herself. "Honestly I didn't believe he really existed. Anyway—his dojo is by the market district. Right, Shikamaru?"

He made a gruff sound at his name, confirming what she said.

Unfazed by his bad attitude, Sakura continued, "As soon as Tsunade lets us leave, we'll go visit him."

As they walked the streets, they kept their voices down. Despite his lack of interest, Shikamaru was keeping a keen eye on the alleys. There were a few other people heading home, all just as wary.

Kakashi wasn't very optimistic.

"Are you sure he's real?"

Shikamaru scoffed, "He's real alright."

"Can we trust him?"

"There are a lot of bizarre rumors about him. People call him the God Slayer, and the Demon from the West." Sakura was getting a little too excited by the absurdity of it all, "Some say he was banished from Enten by the daimyo. Others say he had abandoned all political ties for the sake of spiritual enlightenment."

Kakashi lifted an incredulous brow at Shikamaru who clarified, "His words, not mine." Shikamaru was finally bothered enough to pitch in. "He wasn't banished or anything. He's just famous for not caring where his students come from. It gets him in trouble from time to time. He did leave Enten for a while to live in the mountains, but that was long before I met him."

"You've met him?"

It was clear Shikamaru absolutely did not want to get into it. Even the idea of it was exhausting. "Oh, yeah."

"God Slayer? That doesn't sound good." Iruka eyed Kakashi with concern.

"I can take care of myself, Obou-san. Don't worry about me."

Iruka tried not to consider Kakashi's more violent methods when it came to problem solving.

Shikamaru was very confused by their apprehension. "He's not going to eat you or anything. He's just…" It was either too difficult or too tiring to put into words. Or perhaps both. "When you meet him you'll understand."

Sakura shrugged at Iruka, a little unsure, "It's better than going directly to the Inari Shrine, right?"

Iruka couldn't argue with that. If a strange man in the market district could give him some answers, he had to at least try. For better or for worse.

They passed the street where the fight had broken out. It was empty now with no traces of the incident left. Ahead of them, one of the guards was leaning on the great tori gate. Her head bobbed as sleep threatened to take over. Their partner nudged her, chiding her for dozing.

It was then Iruka realized it must be very late—or early.

Seeing the gate, Shikamaru slowed.

"Sakura, there's something else."

Her eyes glistened at the prospect of another outrageous rumor. "What?"

He shook his head and dashed her dreams. "Not about that. It's…" He observed present company and jerked his head, encouraging her to step away.

Her expression suddenly dropped. She rushed to his side.

He confided in her with a hushed voice.

Iruka didn't catch much, but right at the end he heard Shikamaru apologize.

"I haven't seen him for weeks. With everything that's been going on, I just hope…" He stopped himself at Sakura's dolor. "I'm sorry, Sakura. I'll keep looking. I wasn't sure I should tell you. You seem to have a lot on your plate." He surveyed the two men and child behind her.

"No, I'm glad you did." She stared numbly at the dirt. "Please contact me if you…"

Shikamaru nodded, "You'll be the first to know."

"I'm sorry I took you away from your work." She felt truly guilty now.

Shikamaru pat her shoulder, "Don't mention it. It's my job, like you said." He tried to lighten the mood, "And I doubt I'll ever see you dressed up like this again. I'm glad Chouji saw you too. No one would believe me otherwise."

She bristled, pushing aside her other thoughts, "Get back to work, you slacker."

He chuckled and turned to leave.

She called after him, "When my business is done, I'll come help you."

Echoes of their somber conversation sank back in as he gave his final farewell.

A light had ignited in him. He was wide awake now. "I could use it." Iruka knew this was his true self. His bored affect did well to hide the man's penetrating intellect. "Ask Chouji where I am."

"I will." Sakura, too, felt the spark of determination.

Then he bowed his head to them all, "Take care."

Sakura and company walked into the pleasure district with little conversation. Iruka knew better than to ask what she and Shikamaru had been discussing. She was deliberately shoving those feelings inside herself.

She greeted the few familiar faces they passed without a hint of lingering gloom.

The trio walked along the edge of the road to stay out of the way of the more fast-paced or intoxicated customers until the teahouse came into view. Glowing at a distance, it was an artist's model—too flawless to be real.

Iruka was stunned to see the tattooed group of men from the bathhouse. They must have been drinking somewhere in the time between because they were now thoroughly sauced. This picturesque view of their dramatic appearances, tottering up the grand stone steps in a clump, transformed them into fictitious characters.

The haze of night brushed off the fearful reality outside her gates without effort. The scuffle from before was worlds away.

When Iruka and the rest reached their destination, they were greeted by a very groggy old woman at the entrance. Her bodyguards were still at their posts bearing scary faces and not a hint of fatigue.

They entered and found the teahouse very still. Most of the guests and geisha had clearly retired for the night. The first floor had its panels pulled closed, making the center chamber feel much smaller. They could see a few people on the third floor, but the second floor appeared almost entirely vacant. There was no sign of the tattooed group, which struck Iruka as odd.

From behind them, the old woman called out.

"Sensei? Sakura-sensei?"

Sakura whipped around and clopped back.

The old woman made a little move with her hand, ushering them back outside.

"I'm sorry, Sakura-sensei. I didn't see you there. Tsunade-sama is waiting for you."

She saw the sleeping child on Kakashi's back and pointed her out to one of the guards. The woman quickly approached Kakashi.

"Leave her with us. I'll be sure she gets home."

He hesitated, but Sakura reassured him with a nod. He passed Moegi over to the tall woman, who held her gently.

The other guard walked to the wall leading into the garden and pulled a hidden latch. The wall swung open, revealing a path of moss covered stepping stones.

The older woman bowed from her seated position, "Have a good night, Sakura-sensei."

They stepped forward and were closed inside. Unsure of what to do, they took the path into the garden.

They expected to see Tsunade, or anyone, as they rounded the corner of the building, but they were alone.

The garden had no lanterns. The only light was the slight glow coming from the building beside them. Even in the dark, the garden was bursting with color. Branches of plum blossoms dipped close, blocking the balconies above from sight. They rounded a cluster of bright yellow rapeseed blooms and other flowering shrubs as their path narrowed. The stones were lined with soft blue nemophila buds that led them to the small formal tearoom Iruka and Kakashi had spied from above. With no obvious door in sight, they walked to where familiar wisteria draped like a curtain over the corner. Sakura pushed the hanging flowers to the side as she passed.

The small square crawl-in entrance was open. This shape was commonly used to prevent samurai from bringing swords into a meeting, but it seemed out of place here.

A single light was flickering inside.

Sakura squeezed in first, then Iruka.

The tearoom was just as Iruka anticipated, except for one distinct difference.

One of the rectangular tatami mats had been lifted to reveal a large hole in the floor.

Within was a set of stone stairs going underground.

The trio rallied together in the dark, then proceeded.

The tunnel was cold. The incline was shallow and curved, taking them deeper under the earth. From what Iruka could tell, the tunnel had them doubling back under the garden.

Another pair of guards was waiting for them at a set of thick double doors. Iruka recognized one from earlier that morning. The hulking woman that had hoisted a captive Sakura off the ground. She and Sakura exchanged amused looks. Clearly there were no hard feelings between them.

The women bowed to them and pulled open the doors by the rope handles.

Light and sound hit them like a wall.

Iruka was sucked in. He and the others tumbled forward and collided with a balcony's edge. Wood painted an emerald green sprouted from the stone walls. The plethora of beams wove across and down. The numerous balconies below were overflowing with violently drunk men and women, their backs and arms exposed. Vividly inked skin cast flashes of color like a gyrating kaleidoscope that narrowed with the wooden beams down to the ground floor. The stairs cut at angles, level to level, in a familiar spiral.

Iruka threw his gaze into the belly of what he knew at once to be a mirroring of the teahouse above—completely and flawlessly inverted from glossy red to that shining, saturated green.

The trio yanked off their sandals, throwing them at the back wall that was lined with racks upon racks of shoes, absolutely at capacity. Then ran, letting the spiral take them past revere and hordes of drunks. The pale green matted floor at the base grew closer and closer. The center was raised, replicating the stone steps that surrounded the teahouse.

A collection of roaring voices engulfed the elevated plain.

From an unseen room below, three people appeared: two large men, and Tsunade walking between them in a dark kimono.

The formal trio approached the raised floor and separated to sit on three cushions. Iruka could hear the two men shouting instructions as Tsunade sat wordlessly between them. The crowd clamored in, blocking the scene from view.

Sakura, Iruka, and Kakashi reached the balcony just above the ground floor in time for the crowd to fall into hushed expectation. They watched the backs of the trio as they bowed into the floor. Tsunade's obi was shining with gold woven fabric, secured—bizarrely—in a man's knot. Her black kimono was swimming with fiery orange tiger lilies that spread their petals like fireworks. Her hair was tied loosely in two tails, draped over her shoulders. Then, in a powerful roll of her arm, Tsunade cast off the shoulder of her black kimono. She flexed it and clenched her fist.

A great yellow eye peered out from under her shoulder blade and the crowd went wild.

She aggressively freed the other shoulder and the large blue mask of a horned oni was unleashed.

Bursting from rampant waves, the oni's face dominated Tsunade's back. The waves cascaded down her limbs where two great koi fish swam. A gold koi slipped down with the water's flow, while a black koi swam upstream to bite at her shoulder. Weaving over and under them, and coiling at the edge of the oni's terrifying grin, was the subtle serpentine tail of an unseen dragon.

She lifted a cup in one hand, two dice in the other. The koi flickered in the waves with a flourish as she threw the dice. She slammed the cup on the table over them with a lightning crack.

Her voice blasted through the hall, reverberating and silencing all.

"CHOU!"

All eyes were transfixed, the room froze in anticipation.

"HAN!"

She threw out her straightened hand, presenting the cup.

Demanding action.

* * *

...

Thanks for your patience! And thank you for your amazing comments. I'm so happy you guys are enjoying this story. I'm having a blast writing it.


	5. Fever

...

Fever

...

* * *

The hall exploded into sound. Wooden tokens carrying the weight of fortunes clattered on the table beneath Tsunade's gleaming eyes. Men and women alike scrambled to get their hands in on the game. Like fish thrashing in water after their feed.

Iruka and Sakura were awestruck by the secret world that had been slumbering just underfoot. Their jaws hung open.

The gold tinge that permeated the walls and emerald woodwork glinted in Iruka's vision. The lights were too bold, too corrupting.

If the red teahouse had been the image of orderly perfection and social elevation, the green gambling hall was a paradise of deviation—derailed and detached from reality and meaning—the embodiment of madness.

"Kakashi? Is that you?" A man with spiky hair called from across the railing. He had a bandage across his face covering a recently broken nose. He rounded the corner, yelling at his companion, "Izumo! Izumo, look!"

A younger man with a cloth tied at his forehead and bangs covering one eye gave an exasperated sigh. "What is it now, Kotetsu?" When he saw Kakashi, he turned pale. "Kakashi?"

Kotetsu continued gleefully while his friend staggered like he might faint.

"I heard you died!"

Kakashi squinted, "Is that so?"

"What's with that half-assed hello? Don't you recognize me?" Kotetsu frowned, "I know it's been a while, but come on!"

Kakashi called playfully back, "I'm sure it'll come to me."

Kotetsu shucked it off. "Well, we're usually doing security at the gates." He caught up to them saying, "Boss is getting strict about who walks around outside these days."

"What? That is not true—" Izumo sputtered in pursuit of Kotetsu, "Is that what you've been telling people?"

Kotetsu ignored him and introduced himself to Sakura with flourish. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Kotetsu. This is my best friend Izumo."

"Kotetsu!"

"Okay, okay!" He stuck out his tongue, caught in his fib, "We caused a little trouble the other day, so we're grounded."

"What do you mean 'we'!?" He pointed an accusatory finger at Kotetsu, "I had nothing to do with it."

Kakashi shook his head at the pair, bewildered. "How could I possibly forget you two."

Kotetsu was already tugging at Iruka and Sakura in an attempted escape. "Do you have a table already? No?"

"You started a fight with a government official for eating dango—"

He elaborated innocently to Sakura, "I thought he took mine. It was a simple misunderstanding." Kotetsu pushed the three around the railing. "Here, come sit with us! We have plenty of room. And Ibiki will be happy to see you, Kakashi."

"I highly doubt that." When Iruka stumbled at Kotetsu's prodding, Kakashi supported him with a hand on the small of his back.

Izumo was exploding behind them. "You threw a bench at him!"

"Now, now, Izumo." Kotetsu halted at a door to reprimand him. "I wouldn't have done it if you hadn't encouraged me."

Izumo was practically screaming, "I did no such thing!"

Kotetsu threw open the door while Izumo popped a few veins.

"Here's our room!"

"Don't change the subject!"

The inside was unexpectedly pigmented. Red light poured out from within. Multiple box lanterns were mounted high on the walls. Iruka couldn't tell if the hue of the lanterns was tinting the wooden framing, or if the wood itself was a dark blood red. The panels were without scenic paintings, but instead held decorative weapons—exotic curved blades, javelins, katana, sickles with chains, throwing knives—all fake, Iruka hoped. In the center was a large table where a few were already seated. All of them aside from Izumo had at least one sleeve of their kimonos pulled off to reveal their elaborate inking.

As soon as Kotetsu's face appeared in the doorway, someone from inside said, "Kotetsu, did you get more saké?"

"No! But look at what I found!"

The trio shuffled in and the room clamored with shock and elation.

"Kakashi!?" "Kakashi! Welcome back!" "Is that a monk?"

The room abruptly went quiet as they all gawked at his formal robes. Iruka wished he was back in his shabby old kimono.

Kakashi strode in with confidence to take up Iruka's defense but, rather than old friends, he charmed them like someone would to win over new acquaintances.

"Tsunade abducted him." Kakashi gave him a firm pat on the back, knocking him off balance. "Try not to give him a hard time."

The crowd seemed to accept this and started greeting Iruka with enthusiasm while Kotetsu sat them at the end of the table. He stuck Iruka next to a terrifying bald man with gouging scars on his head and face. Iruka tried his best not to stare.

"Goddamn it, Kotetsu! Get the fucking saké!"

That voice sent a chill down their spines.

At the other end was none other than Anko, with a woman's arms draped over her shoulders. The woman leaned her chest heavily into Anko's back who took a heavy drag from her pipe. The two were thoroughly intoxicated and making eyes at each other through the smoke.

When Kotetsu didn't move, Anko yelled again, "Go!"

In response, Kotetsu grabbed Izumo and retreated behind the door frame, waving. "We'll be back!"

Izumo struggled to get loose, "Wha'dya mean 'we'!?"

The two of them disappeared with the snap of the sliding door and the room resumed its rampant partying, passing food and drink.

The bald man hadn't made a peep since Iruka and the others came in. The top half of his kimono was off, showing a more modest motif of a blue dragon navigating clouds and pursuing a perfectly symmetrical lotus in the center of his back.

He poured a cup for each of them, saying, "Happy to see you alive, Kakashi."

Kakashi matched the man's respectful tone. "A pleasure as always, Ibiki."

There was the warped smile in his eye that gave Iruka goosebumps as he said, "Defiling monks now, are we?"

Kakashi filled the man's cup and toasted, "Hardly. He's here to exorcise a spirit."

Ibiki visibly shuddered, then regained his expressionless visage. He lifted his cup to Iruka with a small bow of his head, "I wish you the best of luck."

Panic rose in Iruka's throat. What horrific creature was capable of scaring this unsettling man?

"Don't worry, Obou-san." Kakashi leaned into Iruka's good shoulder. "Ibiki is afraid of anything spirit related. Even will-o'-wisps."

At the mention of will-o'-wisps, Ibiki twitched. He drank from his cup with sage-like calm.

"Fighting the intangible takes a different kind of strength."

Kakashi laughed lightly, "Yes, I suppose you can't torture something you can't touch."

The two men locked eyes while finishing their cups. Ibiki started to pour again, but the bottle was empty.

He stood with an, "excuse me," and went off to fill it from the large jug in the corner of the room.

In the man's absence, Sakura and Iruka restarted their petrified hearts.

Kakashi whispered to himself with phony nostalgia, "Oh, Ibiki. How I missed you."

Sakura drank tentatively from her cup. "Do you know him?"

He gave a dismissive shrug.

"We worked together a long time ago."

The deliberate ambivalence didn't escape Iruka and he asked pointedly, "Were you the good guys or bad guys?"

Kakashi stared at the ceiling in thought for too long. "The good guys? It's a little fuzzy."

Iruka sighed gruffly. It didn't feel like he was sitting in a room full of dangerous criminals, Ibiki being the most noteworthy exception, and that was some comfort. It was clear they had history with Kakashi, but if Iruka didn't know better he would assume they were perfect strangers.

This wasn't the first time Iruka had seen this behavior from Kakashi and it Iruka reminded of another topic the man had dodged.

Iruka leaned toward him, pulling his focus.

"You knew about this place, didn't you."

Kakashi's eyes crinkled in a joyful smile and he held out his hands, "Surprise!"

Iruka wasn't in the mood. "Why didn't you say anything?"

He leaned back on a hand, "Places like this are illegal, you know."

Iruka's anger was building and Kakashi could see it.

"Oh, come on, Iruka." He gestured to the room. "I didn't want to spoil it for you."

Even with Kakashi's obviously joking attitude, Iruka's frustration abided. How had he let himself get this distracted? The enthralling spell cast by the teahouse and gambling hall was fading from his mind, leaving more questions than answers. He hadn't gotten any closer to fixing Tsunade's problem, or understanding anything more about Kakashi. He couldn't understand why the latter made him so irritated.

The other two were oblivious to Iruka's mood. Ibiki returned with more saké and poured for them all.

"This is the last of it until Izumo and Kotetsu come back. Knowing those two, it'll be a while."

Sakura was still in awe, "There's no way I would have guessed she had a gambling hall down here. Does she have anything to do with the yakuza?"

Ibiki only laughed—an unnerving sound.

Iruka stood up abruptly earning a startled stare from Kakashi and Sakura. "I'm… I'm going to take a look around."

They moved to join him, but he stopped them.

"Alone."

When Kakashi made a confused sound, Iruka didn't look at him.

He left the room behind, not caring how it appeared to the rest of its occupants.

He needed space to think.

He opened the door to a hall filled with drunken revelry. It wasn't ideal for collecting thoughts, but it would have to do.

As the doors of the other rooms opened and shut, the corrupting red light briefly cascaded onto the wooden walkway in strips of color. They pulsed around him in this way, like the ticking of a strange clock.

Iruka thought he might let the seed feel for that sinking energy like he had before, but all he could tell was the obvious: the gambling hall was drowning in wild and unpredictable energy.

Wickedness and sensuality mingled together seamlessly. If he didn't know better, he would say demons had possessed the whole lot of them.

Rather than a lull in the excitement, maybe finding the strongest pocket of madness would get him somewhere.

With nothing to do but try his luck, he let his feet take him along the balcony. He coasted his hand on the wooden railing as he went.

On the ground floor, Tsunade had been replaced by another dice roller. The crowd had dispersed some as a result to share their merriment. He wandered to where the insanity was strongest, bumping into a few floppy drunks as he went down the stairs. Here the tables were arranged like private sittings in a restaurant. Elevated tatami mats were divided by a single wall and each inlet had its own low table and cushions. Guests roamed between groups, counting their spoils, lamenting their losses, and fueling up for more attractions. As in the teahouse above, the far corner led to where food was being prepared. Though the tug was weak, the seed in his chest was drawn that way. It couldn't do any harm to investigate, regardless.

As he walked that way, he noticed something pulse strongly above. Something pulling together on the third floor. Waking up. His heart pounded in response.

He dove back toward the stairs and ran the circle around the balcony, earning more than a few flustered scoldings and bristled threats from the other guests.

When he threw himself around the railing to the last set of stairs he collided with someone much taller than him.

Iruka apologized clumsily, bowing deeply, only to discover a familiar face. It was one of the guards that had apprehended him that morning. Now that she was in casual clothes—and not threatening his life—she looked very pleasant.

She blushed a little, "Obou-sama!" She quickly bowed in apology. "I'm so sorry for being rough with you this morning. I hope you weren't injured."

Iruka waved it off, trying to get by her. "No, not at all! I'm fine."

"Would you like to get a drink? We were about to get another jug from downstairs." She gestured at the company behind her.

Iruka shook his head, "Thank you for the invitation. Maybe I'll stop by later."

The woman added shyly, "Please do, Obou-sama. I'll be waiting."

Just when he resolved to politely blow past her, the pulsing energy exploded. Iruka froze and a scream silenced the hall.

The woman instantly switched to guard mode and ran up the stairs ahead of Iruka.

Before they reached the room, Iruka could hear a violent scuffle. They came to one of the many card rooms where two men were fighting. One was cackling wildly to the point of tears, while the other's face was purple with rage. They wrestled, punching and kicking each other. They tumbled onto the lap of another guest, clearly a friend of theirs, who joined in the fight to separate them.

The guard fearlessly dove in, throwing down the laughing man and locking his arm behind him. She commanded him with authority, "Settle down!"

The man was complete jelly, kicking his legs as he howled like he had just heard the funniest joke in the world. The woman bellowed loudly and lifted him, throwing the joker out the door. The spectators all dodged back.

Another woman jumped in to help her tear apart the remaining men. The friend surrendered without a struggle, but the raging bull of a man could not be stopped.

The cackling of the offender outside drew his bloodshot eye.

Rage tore through his throat and he scarcely sounded human.

"SHUT UP!"

He launched himself at the door only to be caught by the women. Iruka heard the guard's arm snap and she held back a grimace before slamming the man into the floor.

He thrashed like a wild beast.

Iruka took a step closer. This had to be it. If the joker and the bull were indeed possessed, he would know it. Or so he hoped.

When Iruka took a second to think about it, he remembered he had only faced one possession before this. Furthermore, that particular encounter hadn't turned out very well for him.

He could only hope luck was on his side this time.

When the man bucked off the guards, Iruka dashed to put himself in his way. The man didn't hit him with full momentum as he had the guard, yet it took all of Iruka's strength not to be thrown off. A jolt of pain shot through his shoulder as he was rammed, but it held in place. Behind him, the laughing man goofily teetered into another card room.

Iruka used the bull's driving force to steer him, sending him crashing into the railing—wood snapping. Before the man could get his bearings, Iruka ran into the room after the joker. He had plopped himself down and fixed a drink like he didn't have a care in the world.

Iruka examined the walls. More weapons. He grabbed a scabbard from its mounting. To his relief it was hollow. When the bull stepped into the doorway, he didn't even see Iruka. He charged for the laughing man. All Iruka had to do was swing.

The scabbard shattered on the man's head and his feet went flying out from under him. His body crashed with a quaking thud.

Silence fell over the spectators as they waited for the raging man to spring back up. Iruka, panting and clinging to what remained of the broken scabbard, watched the man's head bleed.

He didn't move.

The guards flew into the room and tackled the unconscious man while the joker at the table exploded into tearful laughter. The women tied the two up and dumped them by the wall.

When more guards joined in, the familiar young woman broke away to attend to a very stunned Iruka.

She ducked her head, "Thank you, Obou-sama." Iruka fixed on her arm as she cradled it. She smiled sheepishly and flexed her hand with difficulty. "I'm fine. Don't worry about me."

That was a futile wish. He bowed to her, an apology caught in his throat. The muffled sounds of the laughing man drew their attention. He had calmed a little now that the crowd was dissipating.

"Are you alright?" Iruka asked the joker.

The man wasn't looking at him. He didn't seem to understand what had just happened. He hiccoughed, making him convulse with a full bellied laugh once more. He was out of his mind.

Tsunade's authoritative voice silenced the room.

"What do you make of it, Obou-san?"

The god of fortune stepped inside, her hands on her hips. The sleeves and top portion of her kimono hung at her waist and showed off her large chest bound tightly by a white band. Up close the koi tattooed on her shoulders looked like fledgling dragons.

Iruka put his hand on the laughing man and felt for any sign of possession. There was an inkling of something there, but the seed in his chest was uninterested. There was nothing for it to absorb.

"I'm not sure," he said. "We should… search them for anything odd. Marks of possession, or an item that might be controlling them." Everything he had to offer was generic knowledge about spirits he'd heard from superstitious laymen on Mt. Kurama. Rumors and scary stories. He had no idea how to help these people.

Tsunade beckoned in guards to help the laughing man to his feet. They patted him down. He had a silk money bag and a few wooden tokens for gambling. Iruka hovered his hand over them, but they were innocuous. The women searched the unconscious man. Same story.

Without the source, Iruka's hands were tied. If it were here, the seed would feel it. But there was nothing. When Iruka took stock of the gambling hall, the negative energy was still spreading—even more than before.

"They'll be fine once they sleep it off." She tossed one of her tails of hair. "That's the way it always is. Always in pairs. There'll probably be a few more before the night is over. It doesn't always end in a fight, but more often than not we have to lock someone up until morning."

"They don't always fight?"

Tsunade was suddenly amused, "No. Depending on the pair, it can be very entertaining to watch."

Iruka had absolutely no idea how two people trying to tear each other apart could be the least bit entertaining.

Tsunade put her hands on her hips and assessed the room. "Regardless, they're always destructive. That's my main issue. The property damage is very annoying."

"Can there be more than one pair at a time?"

She shrugged, "Sure. Depends on how rowdy the night gets."

"There must be at least two spirits, then." Iruka paced a little, then grumbled loudly, "But that still doesn't make sense. A spirit wouldn't just leave their host because they fell asleep or passed out, right? And they can't control multiple individuals like that. It would take too much energy." Iruka sat at the table, stumped. "No, they wouldn't leave unless the host became uninhabitable. And if it were strong enough to influence someone from a different floor, even a room away, I would definitely pick up on it." Right? He rubbed his head and groaned. He was digging his own grave.

Tsunade mused out loud, giving him a saving grace. "I had an amateur in here a while ago taking a look. He said even a weak demon could pass its influence into an object just by spending time with it."

"That has to be it then." He looked around the room for a moment, then got back on his feet and walked past Tsunade. He stepped outside and asked the crowd, "Does anyone know these men?"

The friend who had gotten pulled into the fight was sitting by the damaged railing. His lip was busted and he had a colorful bruise coming in on his cheekbone. He raised his hand, "Yeah, I know 'em."

"Were they acting strange before this?"

The man was a little drunk, but coherent enough to earnestly consider the question. "Nah. We were jus' talkin'. Mondai started laughin' at somethin' Potcha did… then it all went t'shit."

Iruka grumbled at the lack of detail. "Where else have you been tonight? Did you do anything in particular in the last few hours?"

The man thought hard. "Mmm, no. We've been sittin' in here drinkin' all night." Then something struck him. "Oh! We went to the gallery!" He looked up and pointed, slurring, "Potcha'd never been before, so we did a lil' walk through."

Iruka's eyes lit up. It wasn't much, but it was a start.

"The gallery's on the top floor." Tsunade came beside him, sounding doubtful. "We've gone down this road before, Obou-san."

He couldn't blame her for her lack of enthusiasm.

"I have to try, at least. Maybe something will turn up." He thought of the man bleeding in the room. "You may want to have Haruno-sensei take a look at that man. I hit him pretty hard. And your guard is injured."

Tsunade nodded, "I'll send for her."

"Thank you, Tsunade-sama."

He started to leave, but faltered with his hand on the broken railing.

At Iruka's sunken expression, Tsunade gave him a reassuring pound on the back. "Knocking them out's the best way to stop them, really. Try not to feel too guilty." Then she winked, "I won't charge you for the scabbard or anything else so long as you finish the job."

Iruka suppressed a groan. He didn't want to think about how much the decoration had been worth. Or how in the world he would foot the bill if he failed.

Iruka trudged up the stairs. Hills and mountain roads were one thing, but his wounded leg was going to be extremely sore after all the flights he had climbed during this brutal day.

The gambling hall had already recovered from its scare. The jubilance was fully restored, if not more inspired by the displays of violence.

As he took the final steps, demons and gods rose to meet him. In their rush, the trio had missed the incredible art painted upon the outer walls of what he could only assume was the gallery. Great heroes draped in elaborate armor fought epic foes across the panels. Lightning and fire and waves roared behind them. Rearing its massive head was a terrifying, coiling dragon that repelled the heroes' attacks. The saturated colors had the images practically floating off the surface, as if they would step out of the painting at any moment.

The doors were large and heavy, like the entrance to a palace. He slid one open enough to go inside where it was surprisingly insulated from the outside noise. The walls were blank and the halls were well lit, allowing the art to shine.

Tsunade had amassed a formidable collection. Works of all sorts and sizes covered the place: woodblock prints, watercolor, and sketches. Sculptures, carvings, and pieces of pottery were presented on podiums in the center of the floor. There was a separate hall for folding screens, one for kimonos, and one for metal crafting. Books lay open on small tables, collections of drawings and a few novels.

A thought struck him and he dug through his fancy new kimono for Shizune's book.

After all he'd seen, he couldn't think of a better place to hide it than here.

He opened to a page and ran his fingers along Shizune's neat handwriting and delicate illustrations. Occasionally there were notes in the margins, additions and edits that had accumulated over years of personal study. The idea of this diligent opus being used for murder was heartbreaking.

Under one of the displays was a small shelf of books, but even the covers and spines were beautifully painted. Of course Tsunade wouldn't show off a dingy, hand bound book in a place like this.

He ambled until absently pausing at a large hanging scroll packed to bursting with white and red peonies. A few small song birds flitted within the bushes, barred by leaves and stems and petals. He wouldn't have noticed them if he hadn't felt them peering from their hiding places. The painting was large enough to envelop him. He spotted a single white bud and stretched his hand to it. He knew better than to touch it, but it took everything in him not to.

The serene image washed over him as his thoughts churned.

He had practically gone running from the room with Sakura and Kakashi. He knew it wasn't their fault, but he couldn't get rid of his restlessness. With the book in his hand, it was hard not to remember why. He had been in the pleasure quarter for a single day and he had forgotten why he came to Enten in the first place. A man had died. His friend. He hated himself for pushing it from his mind for this long.

Tsunade held their ticket out of the teahouse and he had to do his best to satisfy her. He had to find her demons and get out of this place before he lost sight of his purpose.

A few steps out of the drunken sea, the pieces were becoming clearer.

What had alerted the seed to those men in the first place was an accumulation of energy right as it reached a breaking point. Until that moment, the spirit's influence—or whatever it was—had been harmless. That's what was so odd. On the top floor and at the brim of the hall, it was clear now that the whole place was swimming in that influence. Waiting to tip over the edge. They were all in danger of possession.

He couldn't understand how that was possible.

Iruka heard someone on the stairs and panicked, remembering Shizune's book. He sprinted back and forth, trying to decide where to put the damn thing.

Just as the stranger made it to the door of the gallery, Iruka bolted into the hall of kimonos and slid the book into one of the many hanging sleeves.

He ran back to where he had been standing at the painting just as a voice resounded in the empty space.

"Any luck?" When Kakashi stepped into view, his playful smile was gone.

Their previous interaction at the forefront of his thoughts, Iruka meekly shook his head in reply.

Kakashi's one grey eye gazed out from a curtain of silver bangs. Instead of scrutinizing him as Iruka anticipated, Kakashi examined the art. He strolled from one piece to another as if he expected Iruka to return to his duties without paying him any mind.

"I heard about the fight. Were you hurt?"

The painting of peonies in his periphery made Iruka self-conscious so he moved on to the next artist. The large scroll depicted a terrifying monster in the process of eating a samurai. Much better. Iruka could feel Kakashi off his shoulder, but there was a distance stretching between them. Iruka knew it was entirely his fault, yet his stubbornness held back an apology.

In a small voice he answered, "I'm fine."

He returned to his search, but was a little disappointed when Kakashi remained silent. Had their lighthearted relationship really been so fragile?

They were halfway through the gallery when Kakashi spoke. "Do you think something in here is behind the possessions?"

He was startled from his thoughts, "I don't know yet." Iruka went ahead to a collection of ceramics. Bowls, cups, and pots. He paused with his hand over one of the pieces, then released with a sigh. "No. It's not here. There's no way."

He wished he could turn back the day, to before they had been caught by Tsunade's guards and dragged to the teahouse. Back to the morning before he knew the man beside him was a wandering god—whatever that meant. He wished he could return to the night when they sat in the Okiya, enjoying the silence together.

He kept his mouth moving, spouting words while his thoughts raced. "A possessed object would need to stay close to the victim to maintain influence. But those guys didn't take anything from here. " He growled, "Tsunade said there might be more of them before the night is through, but I can't feel even one spirit!"

"So there's more than one of them?"

He exploded at Kakashi, "Who knows! Maybe?" He thought of the injured guard and the man he bashed over the head, cursing himself. "I'm not a monk! I'm completely out of my depth." He wasn't anyone special or worthy of trust. Yet this was the task he had been given. He considered the facts. He thought of the guard, the injured man, and whoever else had been injured before he came. He had to keep going. He had to do everything he could, even if he failed. He rubbed his temple, muttering to himself. "I have to do something before someone else gets hurt."

Kakashi's clear voice resonated in the room.

"Why?"

For the first time since he had come into the gallery, Kakashi looked directly at Iruka. His red and grey eyes pierced him through.

"Why does it matter to you what happens to these people?"

Iruka was startled by the resentment in his tone.

"I made a promise to help."

That struck an odd chord with Kakashi, as if he had anticipated such an answer. He was enraged by it.

His voice came in low, "And you'll take on every crazy berserker you can find just to keep it."

He flared defensively, "If that's what it takes, yes."

"Why!?" Kakashi gripped his fists. "You could just leave. It's not like Tsunade would actually do anything to Sakura, you know that as well as I do. You don't owe these people anything."

"I know that! I know it's none of my business, and I know you think I'm foolish for interfering. I certainly do! But I have to finish what I've started. I have to at least try."

Kakashi growled, his anger peaking, "Why are you so stubborn!?"

He snapped, "I can't just relax and drink saké and flirt around with you! If I'm the only one who can do something about this, then I have no choice—"

Something resounded in Iruka and his thoughts clicked into place.

Kakashi too stopped short.

They stood in silence as they played back Iruka's words.

The demon's object. Iruka knew what it could be.

Just then another surge of energy brewed below them. On the first floor, near the kitchen. The seed tightened in Iruka's chest and he knew another set of drunks were about to rampage.

Without wasting a moment, Iruka burst out from the gallery to skitter down the spiral. His wounded leg throbbed outside of his notice.

Kakashi followed after, calling him. "Wait! Iruka!"

Iruka kept his eyes on the crowd betting on dice. Just when he and Kakashi stepped onto the second floor, a cackling laugh broke through the hall. The second possession of the night hit.

Iruka had his eyes locked on the joker man and bull woman.

Tsunade was already there conducting the masses to keep them apart when a third possession ignited without warning.

By the time Iruka landed on the ground floor, it was in full blown chaos. The two different pairs tore through the crowd in a mad game of cat and mouse.

One of the bulls flew over the mesh of arms restraining her to slash at her joker. The group regained control of the woman and held her down. She broke free, roaring and charging. Iruka saw the shine of a bald head, then watched Ibiki flip the woman over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and onto a dice table, breaking it and knocking the breath out of the possessed patron.

The other pair had found one another and tumbled together in a mess of limbs. At first it looked like they were wrestling, but the joker gushed with ecstatic laughter. The joker tangled into their other, voice bouncing off the walls as they were crushed in the bull's forceful embrace. There was never enough contact and they sought it ravenously. They looked like newlyweds, high on their elation and the inescapable emotions that controlled them.

It was not the possessed individuals Iruka rushed to. Iruka elbowed his way through the crowd to the spot where first pair had been sitting. His knees hit beside the betting table and he searched the floor. The violence from the other couple surged and Iruka had a flash of panic that he might be trampled underfoot by the mob of people. Someone pressed the bodies back, giving him room to breathe.

It was Kakashi. Before returning to his search, Iruka spared a second to take in the contradictions waring on the man's face. Kakashi was beaming with delight until his brows furrowed and he fell into a sullen contemplation. Then he blinked it away, remembering something else and almost smiled again. This conflict played in him even as he pushed back the swarm of people falling in on them with aggravated grunts.

Iruka had no idea what to make of it, but Kakashi would have to wait.

He dove back in and found what he was looking for almost immediately.

An abandoned jug of saké.

He pulled out the plug of the mostly empty container and cautiously brought his face close.

With a deep breath, he took in the smell of saké. It buzzed strangely in his head.

He sloshed remaining contents and curiously licked his lips. Feeling confident, Iruka let his head fall back and took a heavy chug, emptying the last of the saké. The heat spread down his throat and through him instantly.

The seed throbbed in response

He corked the jug, face glowing with excitement.

The patrons were being possessed by an object after all.

Iruka shot up and shoved his way out of the crowd. He dashed to the kitchen with a confused Kakashi hot on his heels.

The kitchen was hard at work, in a frenzy to prepare the food coming from above. It was as if the roughhousing outside was the most natural thing in the world and not worth wasting their time. The countertops were spilling over, yet intensely organized. A slew of people worked over vats of boiling oil and simmering vegetables. A line of chefs were preparing fresh fish, severing meat from the bone with flawless cuts. One chef, who seemed to be running the place, walked behind the others and selected from a variety of toppings at any given station to add to the dishes she passed. She yelled orders and critiques at the other chefs as she did so. Workers prepared batches of meals at a time, adding a final drizzle of sauce or a dash of some spice as they left the kitchen doors, pushing past Iruka and Kakashi.

Iruka lingered there, trying to be as small as possible, and waved at every worker that went by. Not one of them bothered to look at the man holding his saké jug.

"What now?"

Iruka flinched when he realized Kakashi was beside him.

They watched the bustling together and finally Iruka said, "Maybe I should get Tsunade-sama?"

Kakashi was still torn between exasperation and childish giddiness. It was as if he desperately wanted to say something to Iruka, and it was taking all of his control not to. Nevertheless, his impatience with the kitchen crew was undeniable.

Without a word of warning, Kakashi grabbed a platter and shattered it on the ground.

The kitchen went silent, giving the two men their full attention.

A little startled, Iruka asked timidly, "Where do you store the saké?"

"You'll have to pay for that, you know." A kitchen aid tottered to them, garbling. "You can't just come in here like you own the place—"

"No, no. I work for Tsunade-sama. We're just trying to—"

He gasped sarcastically, "Oh, I'm sorry!" He planted his hands on his hips. "You work for Tsunade-sama, do you? Do you have any idea how many times I hear that in a night?"

Kakashi's chilling voice brushed Iruka's ear, "Mind if I help?"

"What—?" Iruka looked back to see the alarming expression on Kakashi's face. "Wait, Kakashi! Wait—!"

The silver haired man was in no way hindered and strode to the kitchen aid, cool as a cucumber.

"Stop right there—!"

The man attempted to grab Kakashi, but was evaded with ease. Mimicking Ibiki, Kakashi took hold of the attacking arm and ducked down, pivoting. The man gave a hiss as his arm was yanked, then it transformed into a long, surprised wail as Kakashi lobbed the full grown man over his head and toward the door where Iruka was standing.

Iruka hopped inside of the kitchen as the man crash-landed in the doorway—howling all the way.

"Kakashi, you don't have to—"

A cook took an impassioned swing of vengeance at Kakashi and was similarly slung to the floor.

There was quiet in the room while Kakashi searched their fearful faces.

"Anyone else?" A few of them shook their heads and Kakashi smiled beneath his mask. "Now, where do you keep the saké?"

One of them pointed out the backdoor and said, "Go down the hall and turn at the stairs, you can't miss it."

He inclined his head. "Thank you."

He pushed open the door without looking at Iruka.

Iruka stumbled through the kitchen, blurting apologies as he stepped over the downed staff. "I'm so sorry. We'll be out of here in a moment. Tsunade-sama really did send me. I'm so sorry."

They came out into a dank hallway illuminated by weak lanterns. Ahead was the aforementioned set of stairs. There were a few workers coming and going, carrying large delivery boxes from the restaurants on the surface. If Iruka had to guess, he would say the stairs came out under the storehouse. They walked past them until the path naturally turned.

The hallway took them to a heavy wooden door. Kakashi pushed it to the side to reveal a storeroom packed full of racks holding saké casks. They were wrapped in fabric bearing the unique marks of breweries from all over the countryside, sealed by knotted ropes. At the front of the room was a row of smaller ceramic kegs with a mouth at their base that intended to fill the serving jugs. Their contents were indicated by the opened cask on the ground beside them.

The cellar was just as faintly stained by dark energy as the rest of the hall, but when Iruka put a tentative hand on a one of the ceramic kegs, the demon's presence was noticeably concentrated.

"Do you feel something?"

Iruka nodded.

Kakashi took the jug Iruka clung to and traded him with a lantern from the hall. Then he shut the door to seal them inside and cut out the light. The warm pocket provided by the lantern was just big enough to contain them both.

Iruka walked from row to row, feeling the casks as he went. The presence within the barrels was undeniable. And it was growing. He followed the trail through the racks.

This was definitely the origin of the possession. Somehow the saké had been tainted. Not just one barrel, but all of them.

Kakashi pulled him from his concentration, "Iruka."

He looked up to see something the size of a cat skitter under the racks. Squeaky laughter echoed off the rock walls.

When Iruka squinted his eyes into the dark he could see a dim glow of light.

They came to the deepest corner of the room, edging around the final rack of casks.

Racing about the barrels were two blue creatures. Despite their childlike hands, their bodies and faces were distinctly cat-like. The fleeing demon cast off a warm ochre haze, while the one chasing seeped with flaming red energy. High pitched giggling of the fleeing demon was met with a ferocious snarl when it was tackled and caught. The two blue imps grappled like rabid dogs and the air enveloping them turned bright red. They gripped one another, baring their shining, feral teeth. Iruka flinched back, but then they erupted in playful laughter and rolled on the floor in a warm cloud of yellow.

Kakashi whispered with a small smile, "You found them."

The kindness in his voice set Iruka at ease.

Iruka had been unaware of their closeness until that moment. Kakashi watched the two playing creatures with a crinkle in his eyes, then he met Iruka's stare. His expression dissolved into his usual smug grin and their argument in the gallery suddenly felt far away.

Iruka was hit with renewed determination. Their trial was almost over. Now he just had to catch the demons and hope the seed would work its magic.

The demons continued their play as they climbed over the casks, taking turns and changing the air around them with their game. Occasionally the fleeing party would slip into a barrel in a burst of colorful smoke. They would hide there until the other scared them out, emerging dizzy and drunk.

Iruka crouched and pointed with his good hand, thinking aloud, "Maybe if we corner them?"

Kakashi huffed mockingly at his cramped pose and took the lantern from Iruka to set it down. "I think I should just do it."

"And let you have all the fun? No way." Iruka's heart pattered happily.

Kakashi held a finger to his lips, shushing the man. He walked away to flank the pair and gestured for Iruka to close in.

Iruka suppressed an enthusiastic snicker as he took his place.

The red goblin drifted near Iruka, too distracted to notice him.

Kakashi's shouted, "Now!" and Iruka grabbed it.

Iruka was yanked to the ground with surprising force. He rolled onto the little beast and tried to stay clear of its gnashing teeth. All he had to do was restrain it long enough for the seed to do its job, or so he hoped.

The demon's energy flooded into him. Adrenaline pumped in Iruka's temples as the seed guzzled its meal. He struggled to hold onto the wriggling creature as his muscles jerked involuntarily. The force of the possession was much stronger than he anticipated. The rush of heat from the demon was overwhelming and a heavy drunken feeling was washing away his rational thought. His vision tunneled to almost black.

The demon was shrinking—changing—in his arms.

A low defenseless chuckle clattered in the storeroom and Iruka felt a surge rocket down his spine.

His eyes rolled back and he gasped at the blaring heat coursing through him.

The hold on both his sanity and the goblin was failing fast.

Iruka strained to properly assess what was happening to the demon he had caught, but when the joyful tittering from across the room turned into unbridled laughter Iruka's body took on a mind of its own. He threw himself blindly at the sound, demon forgotten.

Before he knew where he was, someone caught him. His back rippled with tension as he fought the blinding red haze.

Through light chuckles Kakashi said, "You're injured, Obou-san. It's dangerous to run around like that."

Something else was sneaking in with the anger. Guttural and hasty.

With his good arm, Iruka launched Kakashi to the ground. The man hit with a grunt and laughed even more.

Iruka briefly came to his senses while straddling Kakashi. He panted heavily and held himself there. The rage was prickling under the surface. A lightheaded buzz trickled down and his muscles clenched into it.

Under him, the warmth haloing Kakashi was shifting steadily toward red. Kakashi pulled down his mask very deliberately and revealed that infuriating smirk.

Iruka shot his one good hand at Kakashi and grabbed his collar to yank him close.

His control was slipping.

"You caught me. Now what?"

The heat saturated him, bringing every cell to life.

Before a clear thought could flicker in his mind, Iruka shot forward and his mouth closed over Kakashi's in a hungry kiss.

The taste of Kakashi's mouth was sweet. Too sweet to be saké. The man gave in without an ounce of resistance and Iruka's tongue dove in for more, pulling Kakashi's into his mouth. A shiver rippled down his neck, flashing through his body with the frenzy. Iruka sucked in Kakashi's lip and bit it harshly.

Kakashi responded aggressively, gripping Iruka's ass tightly in his hand and throwing him to the side. Kakashi rolled onto him and held Iruka to the ground by his uninjured shoulder.

He watched with starved eyes as Iruka arched up to almost reach him. Kakashi's parted lips hovered above his and Iruka opened his mouth slightly in anticipation. Their ragged breaths mingled. Iruka could feel the anger flutter away, replaced by a jittery tingle. A single chuckle escaped Iruka and Kakashi consumed him out of rage. Kakashi's tongue glided along his and they tangled with painful slowness.

Iruka felt weak. He turned his head to deepen the kiss and allowed Kakashi free reign to saturate his senses. His toes curled and an erratic breath snuck in between their lips. A voice barely his own came from the back of his throat and vibrated through him. The possessive energy was draining rapidly into the seed from both of them, but Iruka didn't care.

Kakashi broke the kiss and took Iruka's hair in his hand. Iruka lay beneath him, panting.

The deadly glint in Kakashi's eye sent a chill through him. He might have felt frightened, but the demon's uncontrollable mirth was taking the lead. He snorted, trying to hold it in.

Kakashi sharply tilted Iruka's head back by his hair and bit down on his throat. Iruka cried out and it dissolved into laughter. Kakashi's tongue eased the pain, running it across his skin before planting soft kisses on his pulsing skin. Kakashi teased up Iruka's neck and to his ear. The tickling sensation nearly undid him. He bit his lip to suppress his snickering and Kakashi smiled against his cheek. That did it. Iruka sputtered into laughter, quickly joined by Kakashi.

Kakashi lifted away so their eyes could meet. Signs of his possession had shifted to a subtle gold.

The fog of the demons' power was fading from them both.

All that was left was to let the seed drain it.

Iruka lowered his gaze to Kakashi's lips. As he did, they pulled into a slight smile. Knowing he was being watched, Kakashi rolled his tongue over where Iruka had bitten his lip. Iruka lifted from the cold ground to take him in a gentle kiss.

Kakashi released Iruka's hair and caressed down his neck. His touch lingered apologetically on the new bite mark he had made. His cool fingers soothed the throbbing pain before moving on to the collar of Iruka's kimono, teasing it open. Kakashi adjusted to give his other hand freedom to wander, but accidentally pushed on Iruka's bruised ribs in the process.

Iruka let out a yelp and Kakashi immediately came to his senses.

He sat up, startled. "Are—are you alright?"

Kakashi looked like he had been woken from a dream. As reality became clear around him, he checked Iruka carefully.

"Yes… I'm fine." He smiled at Kakashi and laughed weakly, "That didn't go very well."

Kakashi replied with a whiff of mockery, "What makes you say that?"

Iruka held his side, groaning. Kakashi helped him sit upright as guilt and concern took over.

Iruka let his head fall into Kakashi's chest and he sat there breathing through the pain. Kakashi's hands fidgeted for a moment before folding loosely on Iruka's back. He played with the hair at Iruka's nape that had fallen loose from its tie, muttering apologies.

They stayed like that for a moment as the last of the demons' energy faded from them both. When it was gone, Iruka sat straight. Movement caught his eye and he spotted the last blue demon crouched by the stone wall of the storeroom seeming very small and lost. Its glow was gone—the balance undone. It watched them fearfully.

"It wiggled away as soon as I started laughing." Kakashi glanced around, "Where did the other one go?"

Just then a light drifted into view. Flitting innocently above them was what remained of the demon Iruka had caught. It had transformed into a sunny sprite. Shifting in and out of a recognizable form, it passed through the casks with a giggle like the jingle of small bells.

Iruka and the remaining, mournful gremlin watched it in awe.

When Iruka's breath finally settled, he held out a guiding hand to the blue creature.

"Come on, then. It won't hurt."

The little thing moved to Iruka and extended its small hand with uncertainty. As it reached into the air around Iruka, the tips of its fingers turned into light. The brightness gradually spread through it and the little beast lost its form as well. It floated away from Iruka and Kakashi like a shred of sheer fabric caught in a breeze. Motionlessly it drifted, as if asleep.

Kakashi gaped at Iruka's hand. "Did you kill it?"

"I don't… think so."

Its partner appeared from the casks and circled curiously. Finally, it gave its friend a sharp poke.

A light sparked between them and new life burst from the duo. They took in one another, clearly in shock. Then the first flickered to the side, teasing the other and encouraging it to play. The second joined in instantly and they fell into joyous song and dance. Their voices clattered through the chamber like tiny chimes.

Iruka laughed.

"What is it? What's happening?"

Turning from the touching scene, Iruka saw Kakashi's wandering eyes. The man sat straight as he searched the storeroom.

Kakashi could no longer see the creatures.

The childish disappointment in his face was so sad it was laughable.

The teacher once more, he put a hand on Kakashi's shoulder, "They're here. Sit very still." He scooted closer to match their line of sight. "See if you can hear them."

They sat motionless as the spirits bounced about the rows of casks. Their little voices chittered as they went, the tinkling of glass.

Kakashi's eyes widened when he heard it. Iruka kept him quiet with his hand.

"Just watch."

He pointed to where they were in the room, trailing them with his finger.

Kakashi reflexively touched Iruka's arm as they appeared for him. Iruka could almost see the magical light bloom for Kakashi.

The men sat back and watched the sprites restored display of affection. Reunited, the pair chased each other, oblivious to their human visitors. They shifted freely in and out of their feline forms, sometimes falling into a wisp of gold light.

The negative energy in the storeroom had dispersed. Without the demons, Iruka was optimistic that the possessions would end.

Kakashi leaned back with a sigh, drawing Iruka's focus.

He shared his satisfaction with Iruka, "You did it."

Iruka swelled with pride. "I guess I did." He puffed out his chest and said, "Not bad for a fake monk, wouldn't you say?"

Kakashi rocked forward to stand and extended a hand to Iruka.

"Not bad at all, Obou-san."

Iruka took it gladly and was pulled to his feet. He swept up the lantern, though they hardly needed it. The two sprites illuminated the majority of the storeroom now and the men easily made their way to the exit.

As they reached the end of the room, uneasiness grew in Iruka. Their time was almost up.

Kakashi spotted the jug they had left at the door and chuckled. He plucked it from the ground and turned to Iruka.

"May as well, while we're here."

Iruka nodded wordlessly. He didn't even know where to begin, yet his head was buzzing with things to say. He didn't want to leave yet. He didn't want to reenter the chaos of the hall, whatever waited for them.

Kakashi filled the container and corked it, presenting it to Iruka. He inelegantly took it, trading for the lantern once more, and they walked toward the exit. Kakashi started to open the door when Iruka stopped his hand.

His voice shook, "I'm sorry about…" He had started speaking without imagining a proper end to his sentence and was forced to lamely settle with: "that."

The man gauged Iruka carefully, then gave a sly smile. Iruka flushed.

Then the door jerked out of Kakashi's hand.

There stood Kotetsu and Izumo. With them came the sounds of boisterous celebration and ardent music echoing from the distant gambling hall.

Kotetsu was slathered, "There you are!" He held a jug in each hand. "Are you here for the saké?" His shoulders jerked with a hiccough. He searched Kakashi's hands and saw no container. "Did you forget your jug?"

Iruka babbled for a second, still red-faced, before hoisted his container up to answer Kotetsu.

Izumo pushed past them with his own jugs and headed for the ceramic keg. "Damn it, hurry up! Those girls won't wait out there forever." He mumbled to himself, "We were finally having some fun, too."

Iruka looked at the back of the storeroom, clutching the jug nervously, but the little sprites were nowhere to be found.

Kotetsu stumbled after Izumo saying, "Don't blame me. I didn't ask you to come."

"No! You didn't! You smacked her friend in the head dragging me out of my seat!" Izumo latched onto the keg and filled his jugs.

"Anko was yelling at me… I got scared."

"Because you keep fucking around! Do your fucking job!"

From behind the keg, a shining sprite popped out.

Iruka reflexively gripped Kakashi's arm, but the man saw nothing and lifted a brow in Iruka's direction.

Kotetsu, however, had frozen in place and pointed a shaky finger at the elusive sprite.

"Um—uh. Izumo? There's…"

The little light swam over Izumo's shoulder, prickling at his anger. The second appeared at his feet. Kotetsu's face drained of all color.

Izumo hooted scornfully, "No, no, no. Don't try to pull that crap on me again. I know your games—"

A scream was caught in Kotetsu's throat as the little sprites latched onto Izumo.

He and Iruka waited tensely for Izumo's reaction.

To their surprise, a blanket of ease settled in and all the rigidity in his body drained away.

Izumo looked around, dazed, as if he had forgotten why he was standing in a storeroom.

"I-Izumo…?" Kotetsu called cautiously.

Izumo's head swished lackadaisically from his shoulders. He stifled a drunken chortle as he finished filling his jug. He turned to Kotetsu and made a motion to trade for the empty bottles in his friend's hands.

When Kotetsu didn't hand them over, Izumo inquired with a heavy slur.

"Wha's'wrong?"

Kotetsu leaned closer to examine him. "A-are you alright?"

"Am I 'right?" Izumo searched the room, perplexed. When discovering nothing particularly wrong, he burped in his mouth and said, "Hell yeah!" He shoved the filled jugs into Kotetsu, almost dropping the whole lot. After the tussle, Izumo emerged with the empty ones. "Are y—" He burped again and snorted a laugh, "—Are you a'right?"

Kotetsu was astonished, but clearly not upset by Izumo's change in attitude. To Iruka and Kakashi he whispered, "Did you do this?"

Iruka was too bewildered to answer, while Kakashi feigned ignorance with a shrug.

Izumo started humming to himself and did a little shimmy of his shoulders as he approached the ceramic cask once more.

A grin spread across Kotetsu's face. "I haven't seen him this happy in years."

The sprites, satisfied with their handiwork, frolicked back to the racks.

Izumo finished filling and shoved the final cork into place. He lugged one over his shoulder by the handle. "We—" he said to Kotetsu, pointing back to the hall. "—are goin' back out there. We're gonna find a couple of nice women. And we—" He bumbled forward and gave Kotetsu a suggestive nudge. "—are gonna show 'em a good time." Kotetsu could only nod. Izumo staggered past Iruka and Kakashi, saying, "Follow me!"

Kotetsu did so with gusto. "Now we're talkin'!"

Kakashi and Iruka were left stunned. They pursued the inebriated pair at their own pace.

"Is this really okay? I mean…" Iruka looked back at the storeroom, "Can we really leave them here?"

"Are you worried?"

"A little. They seem harmless now." He added nervously, "I just hope Tsunade will let them stay."

"If I ran a secret gambling hall…" Kakashi mused, "and I had demons in my basement that could turn gangsters into happy-go-lucky drunks… I'd be thrilled. Besides, if they ever go crazy again you can just come back to purify them." His lids drooped cheekily, "With my help, of course."

Iruka flushed furiously. "I—Listen—That—"

Kakashi chuckled at him, "Relax, Iruka. You'll pull a muscle."

The celebratory roar was deafening even before they passed through the kitchen. The workers acknowledged their entrance with little interest until they saw Kakashi. Their scramble to meet the demands of the rejuvenated rumpus came to a screeching halt at the sight of him.

"G-good evening." Kakashi said awkwardly, rubbing his shaggy hair.

Iruka pushed him forward before they could cause any more trouble.

The sounds coming from the gambling hall soon drowned out all else. The pattering of sticks on the rims of drums rattled in Iruka's bones like the clattering of hail against wood. It grew and grew, the frantic heartbeats of a thousand birds hammering at once.

When Iruka and Kakashi broke into the hall, a new level of drunken festivity awaited them.

The elevated plain had been cleared of its gambling table and now hosted a mesmerizing group of women engaged in brilliant dance. Their gold leaf fans flickered in the lantern light like a catching flame. With the sharp turn of their heads, their hair ornaments whirled through the air and made the room spin with them.

Tables set on the ground floor were lily pads amongst the restless carp. Most of the patrons had shed the top halves of their kimonos, presenting a gallery of ink. Every ripple of excitement made the tattooed images quiver like beautifully painted scales. The servers, dealers, and dice rollers calmly roamed among them. They corralled their wild fare with expert skill. They did not seek to tame, but rather stoke the drunken power so it could thunder on to the end of time. Or to the bottom of their wallets, at least.

Kotetsu slung his arm over Izumo's shoulder as they passed out the jugs to various tables until only Iruka's remained. His feet went after them, though his eyes wandered. The group of men edged around the dancer's platform to a hectic table hiding in the back.

The drum's sound scattered and the patterns became disjointed while a large cymbal crashed at a steady pace—holding the rhythm until it abruptly cut off. Sticks cracked on the rim of the drums and were silenced.

In the stillness, the twanging call of the shamisen rang out.

Iruka saw the tattoo of an oni's face glaring out from within the packed crowed of their intended table. There sat Tsunade staring down the roller rattling their dice. The teahouse owner's cheeks were pink with drink. When the roller slammed her cup and called for bets, the table went oddly quiet.

Tsunade held her chin in concentration as the shamisen's melody accelerated. Deep taiko drums resounded behind it, shaking the walls and making Iruka's arms prickle with goosebumps. The two competed for musical dominance.

Finally, Tsunade pushed forward a formidable stack of wooden tokens and shouted confidently, "HAN!"

Instantly, her entire company responded with equal confidence, "CHOU!" and clamored to put in their tokens.

The dealer revealed snake-eyes and the table erupted in triumphant cries. Tsunade's fortune was snatched up and divvied amongst the flailing frenzy.

Kotetsu broke through to pass Iruka's jug to Tsunade. She yanked out the cork and took a large swig, then noticed Iruka behind him.

She yelled out, "There's my favorite monk!" and tore from the table to the players' dismay.

They hollered after her to stay, but she shoved them aside to get to Iruka and Kakashi.

Iruka checked the disappointed crowd. "Is it alright for you to leave your game?"

"It's fine, I'm out of money anyway." She slung the jug of saké into Iruka's belly, "Here! Drink up! Job well done, little monk."

Someone from the table wined, "Come back, Tsunade-hime! What'll we do without you!?"

She snarled, slamming her foot on the ground. "Back off, you fucking vultures!" She pushed the jug on Iruka with more force. "Come on! A drink for my favorite monk!"

Iruka reluctantly held up the heavy bottle. He went in for a small sip and Tsunade lifted the end of it, forcing him to chug the saké. When he broke free, he sputtered and sucked in air with a gasp while Kakashi snickered behind him.

"That's better! Follow me." She pulled them to the stairs and headed for the room they had visited earlier. "I'm impressed! We had four crazy people running around one minute, then all the sudden they collapsed!" She mimicked the action with her hands, "Bam!" When they reached the room she gave Iruka a jarring slap on the back. "I don't how you did it, but it worked! You'll have to tell us your gallant tale."

Kakashi smirked and said, "Oh, yes. I'm sure he'd be happy to. Obou-san has a very unique way of exorcising demons—"

Iruka elbowed him sharply in the side as Tsunade pulled open the door. He had no intentions of making a habit of that particular method of exorcism, but he didn't at all mind that he could still taste Kakashi on his lips.

He unconsciously licked them at the thought.

When the room spotted his monk's robes, they broke into clamorous cheers.

Iruka was pulled into the red room and its festivities. The group demanded to hear the story of how Iruka had saved their gambling hall. Kakashi watched with keen interest but stayed frustratingly silent. Iruka avoided the man's sparkling eye and appeased them to the best of his abilities, leaving out a few particular details.

Bystanders pilfered in long enough to soak in the tall tale and subsequently offer him a drink for his valiant efforts.

Tsunade did well to escalate the narrative with every passerby. Soon enough the whole hall believed the monk had singlehandedly saved the kitchen crew from two bear sized demons and brought them down with nothing but his prayer beads. They saw his injuries and congratulated him on making it out alive.

He struggled to correct them, but his reputation had been too enthusiastically fabricated to be undone. He wallowed in guilt and had no choice but to let the masses have their way. He was toasted over and over, hailed as a hero of the gangsters. A monk for sinners and saints alike. It didn't take long for gamblers to start lining up to have their dice blessed. He sloppily obliged, slurring made-up prayers and chants.

Occasionally he would spy at Kakashi, who had settled at the other end of the table. Clearly ignoring his pleas for help, Kakashi carried on with the lively conversation that surrounded him.

At one point, Tsunade plopped down beside Iruka. She clinked her cup with his.

"How's my favorite monk? Enjoying yourself?" Her speech dragged lazily.

It took him a little too long to comprehend her question and made him realize how intoxicated he really was. He faced her with big, guilty eyes.

Equally sloshed, the woman pulled him close and pressed his injured shoulder unintentionally into her enormous bosom. "What's wrong, Obou-san? Is someone being mean to you?"

He answered with a long sigh. "Tsunade-sama… I'm sorry." His head sagged on his shoulders and the truth poured out, "I lied to you. I've lived on Mt. Kurama all my life, but I'm…" He blubbered quietly, afraid of being overheard, "I'm not really a monk."

At her silence, Iruka realized he had made a terrible mistake. Their wide eyes met and Iruka waited for the axe to fall.

Tsunade blinked at him.

"You lived in the temple?"

"Y-yes, Tsunade-sama. Mostly."

"But you're not a monk?"

He drew steadily away from her like a frightened animal and shook his head rapidly when his voice wouldn't come out.

She sat him apart from her and examined his face, clothes, and beads. Her brows scrunched together to bring him into focus. Behind them a server brought in another tray abundant with food and the crowd clamored to get the best treats before they disappeared. The oblivious room partied on while the kami and frail mortal man stared at each other for what felt like an eternity. Blood drained from his face and Iruka prepared for the end.

She grabbed his shoulder roughly and his heart nearly stopped.

"You had me fooled!" She cackled loudly.

Iruka staggered in his seat, clammy and shaking.

"D-did I?"

"You give off a saintly air." Tsunade sipped from her cup and said, "Isn't there a saying? 'An apprentice near the temple will recite scriptures untaught?' You're living proof!"

"Ah well, I don't know about that." Iruka blushed and rubbed the back of his neck.

The roar of the room caught Tsunade's attention and she added, "But let's keep up your little charade, Obou-san. We wouldn't want to burst anyone's bubble." She booped his nose, "At least for tonight." Then she grinned and poured more saké into his cup. As he drank, she voiced her innocuous curiosity, "If you're not a monk, how did you stop the demons?"

Iruka blanched, spilling on himself. "Oh… Um…" He finished his drink, bumbling for an answer. Just to be safe, he settled for the easiest lie. It came out stiffly, "Kakashi did most of the work."

"I see." She poured more for him. Tsunade swallowed the fib well enough, but when the god of fortune examined Kakashi across the room it was clear she held other, more significant suspicions. "You should be careful with that one, Obou-san."

"Meh." Iruka hazily swirled the liquid in his cup. "Don't worry about him, Tsunade-sama. He may act all mysterious, but he's harmless."

Now that the weight of guilt had lifted, he sank into boozy relaxation. The queen of the pleasure quarter on the other hand had sobered some.

"Obou-san, I understand you don't want to think ill of your companion, but that man doesn't have a very clean record in this city."

Iruka realized she was about to launch into her history with Kakashi and sat at attention, eyes sparkling. He tried and failed to nonchalantly probe for more information.

"How long have you known him?"

Despite his blatancy, Tsunade answered with earnest. "A while ago he was causing a ruckus with some of my boys. Well… they weren't mine at the time." She grumbled, "They were terrorizing the merchant quarter: bullying 'taxes' out of shops, breaking into houses. And they had the balls to try and sneak into my territory to do the same. I hired some people to track them down, but then," She watched Kakashi warily, "a noble family was wiped out overnight. And _he_ disappeared."

Iruka's gut dropped. That wasn't what he had been expecting.

"I don't know what he had to do with it, if anything. My boys seemed to think he wouldn't be a part of something horrible like that, but I'm not so sure. I could tell something was off about him. He didn't… feel right. Then one day it dawned on me." She wagged her finger ironically, "I had been watching that mutt slink around this city for over a century. Dragging the rain in with him. Whether he was a man or a beast, I could tell it was him. He was… like me."

When she didn't continue, Iruka tentatively finished her thought. "A kami?"

That didn't pin it well enough for Tsunade, but she provided no alternative.

He couldn't miss this chance to interrogate her.

"Where did… where did you come from, Tsunade-sama?"

Her cheek lifted at his wariness. "Are you asking me what I am?" Looking very human, Tsunade leaned on the table. "I'm sure we can agree no one remembers their birth. And we don't come out asking how we came to be. Or why. We just live and survive by doing the things that come naturally." She continued, "I'm certain I came from a feeling. The desire for wealth and good fortune." She leveled with him patiently, "That's how we start. Driven by our sole purpose. And like most kami, I started influencing humans from the other side,—stoking human's ambition, feeding their greed."

He clarified cautiously, "F-from the spirit world?"

She nodded, "Some never leave. They're content to stay in that place. But I… I started asking those questions. Why was I born? What made me different from the beings I felt compelled to watch over? I wanted to experience mortality for myself. I wanted to be a part of the world I was affecting. I started out very pure, if you can believe it—very ignorant—but I've spent enough time among humans that I've changed. Now I can't even imagine going back."

"So that's where Kakashi…"

She filled with disgust, "No. He's not from our realm." Iruka flinched at the flash of cruelty. Then Tsunade sighed. She knew Iruka meant no harm. And she knew his true question. "There are beings from the mortal world that live long enough to change their nature. Most of them are born from something very simple. A human's companion might manifest as their guardian after death. A cry for vengeance becomes a restless spirit seeking vindication." Recognizing her dark examples, she groped for a cheery alternative, "Um… Springtime could take the form of a song bird."

The spider witch from the mountain came to mind. Her silky hair and red lips. Driven by hunger.

The thought slipped out, "They sound like… demons."

Tsunade paused at that. Iruka realized he might have insulted her and prepared to apologize, but she merely eyed her drink with a darkening smile.

His stomach twisted as that otherworldly air seeped out from the woman. The others in the room were unaffected as the turbulent field swirled around them.

"Who's to say I'm not a demon?" She lifted her eyes, their severity glinting in the lanterns, "Who draws the line, Umino-san?"

He didn't know how to answer. He was afraid to.

With a hint of bitterness, she told him, "It's humans that worship us as gods. It's humans that declare us demons. Youkai, kami, oni… We take many forms, but what we have in common is purpose. We all have something at our core that sustains us." Before Iruka could get ahead of himself, Tsunade cut his thoughts off. "Now I don't know if that's what Kakashi is. I can't say which side he falls on by _your_ standards, if he belongs to one at all. All I can tell is… he is malformed."

She turned to take a drink and wash away the foul taste the talk had left.

Iruka gazed at the man in question.

Kakashi's cheeks were flushed lightly with drink. He laughed at something said and sat with his back against the wall. Despite his involvement, Kakashi still seemed disconnected from the merriment. Perhaps that was what drew others to him. They couldn't turn their charmed eyes away. They all wanted was to catch his attention, even if for only a moment. They wanted to pull him out from that other world by their own hands.

He realized Tsunade's concerned gaze was on him.

"Does he eat people?"

Her eyebrows cinched together. "No. Not that I can tell."

Iruka hummed at that.

If he had been raised as one of the monks, he was sure his conversation with Tsunade would weigh differently on him. He would feel more reverent of the otherworldly things that mortals were not meant to glimpse at. Maybe there was something wrong with him for thinking otherwise.

Even if he was still reasonably intimidated by Tsunade's power and influence, hearing her beginnings and her doubts had changed him. She had questions. She had her own ambitions. She had a moral compass that steered her actions. Even the demons he had purified were compelled by the simple joy of being together. How was that any different from a mortal's motivation?

"I had never considered… what separates demons and kami. It's a little scary to think that so many people base their lives on something that might just be a matter of opinion." He stretched his hand out, examining it. "You could use your influence to take advantage of people, but you help them instead. The power's the same either way, isn't it? You're a kami because that's what you've chosen to be."

Tsunade's eyes widened, entirely at a loss for words.

Iruka squinted at her, not sure of exactly what he had said. He was a little too drunk to be having this conversation and it was making him dizzy.

"Kakashi's saved my life more than once. Though he can be a little violent sometimes…" He looked at his lap. The Kakashi he knew was… lost. He didn't seem like someone to fear. "I don't know what all he did in the past, but I don't think he's a bad person—kami—whatever."

To Tsunade, Kakashi was an unknown which she deemed dangerous. Her riff raff imagined him to be refined and mysterious, while the real Kakashi was anything but. He was childish and shameless and surprisingly single-minded.

He couldn't tell if Kakashi was still angry about their confrontation in the gallery, but he didn't want this awkwardness to go on between them. There was so much more to the man than that. Iruka wanted to breach that solitude and had confidence he could do it. He needed to know what would happen if he did.

His fingertips tingled at the thought.

"Even if he was…bad." He winked at her, "I'll do my best to keep him in line."

She snapped out of her daze, "But Obou-san—"

"It'll be alright." He pushed off his knee and came to standing. Tsunade moved to help, but he stopped her by saying, "Thank you for everything, Tsunade-sama. It's been a wonderful night, but I think I'll turn in."

She was surprised by his stubbornness, but watched him in awe.

Finally she bowed her head in thanks and toasted her glass to him. "Have a good night, Obou-san."

Upon standing, Iruka was reminded just how much saké he had enjoyed. He made an effort to not watch Kakashi as he made his way to the door. He could have sworn he saw the man staring at him, but perhaps Iruka had wishfully imagined it.

Having almost forgotten, Tsunade stopped him when he pulled the door open.

"Come to me tomorrow, Obou-san, and I'll give you your payment."

He didn't recall her making such an offer when she gave him the job, but Iruka's head wasn't clear enough to question her. He simply waved and stepped out of the room to the open balcony.

Two singers had joined the shamisen in place of the drummers. Their duet was full of dissonance, often their voices were in opposition, but they always came to a place of harmony one way or another. And always when he least expected it.

His intoxicated brain couldn't help but link the duet's song with his own stream of misfortunes and be moved by their parallel journeys. Iruka might not enjoy discord in his own experience, but he knew the satisfaction that came with resolution was unlike anything else.

The party raged on. There were still those diligently gambling for their fortunes. They were tireless and their primal fight had lost none of its fire. Iruka was sure they could continue well into the morning. The lights of the hall, however, had been purposefully dimmed by those tasked with manipulating the evening's atmosphere. A haze lingered in the air from pipes and incense, and balconies were overflowing with people savoring their food and drink. In more secluded parts of the hall, pairs and clusters had settled into one another's arms. The guests watched the trails of light and smoke with dreamy eyes.

Iruka ambled up the stairs, worn by fatigue and alcohol.

He was determined to make it to the top when he spotted a familiar head of pink hair.

Sakura was sitting at the edge of the broken railing. Her socked feet dangled and she had a bottle of saké tucked under her arm.

At first he thought her eyes were dazed from drink, but there was something markedly melancholy in her absent stare.

Iruka couldn't let it alone and approached her carefully.

"Are you alright?"

When she looked up, there was the trace of a tear in the corner of her eye.

She blinked it away in an instant. "Umino-san! You did it!" She wiped her face with her expensive sleeve, laughing, "I can't believe it. I've been hearing crazy stories about you all night. What happened?"

Iruka settled beside her and gave her the censored version he had grown accustomed to telling. As he finished, he remembered those who had been injured in the process.

"Is that man okay? The first one that was possessed. I-… I hit him really hard. I was worried… And the guard! Her arm—"

"They're fine, Umino-san. He's not the only one who got hurt, believe me. Not just the possessed ones. I've been splinting broken hands and stopping nosebleeds all night." Sakura could tell that didn't do much to reassure Iruka, so she added, "That guy's going to have a bad lump and a hell of a headache for a few days, but there's no permanent damage I can see. I'll keep an eye on him tonight, just to be safe. Once I set that guard's arm she went off celebrating somewhere."

That made him chuckle. "I'm glad. Thank you."

"I wish I'd been there with you. You're a legend now." She held her bottle higher to examine it. There was a sadness in Sakura that she couldn't shake, even as she laughed with him. "Maybe I should pay your little demons a visit."

He couldn't ignore that. He didn't care if he was being nosey.

"What's wrong, Sakura?"

At the sound of her teacher's voice, her brows drew together and the threat of a tear returned.

"The saké… It tastes sour to me." Her lip quivered and the quiet tear escaped. She quickly sat the bottle aside. "I was thinking about a friend I haven't seen in a long time." She pulled her knees in and gripped the red kimono. "I know I have better things to do, but… I can't get him off my mind."

Iruka encouraged her to continue, "Is that so?"

She watched the bottle with tender eyes.

"I realized he and I have never shared a drink together."

"He should come out with us next time. Saké tastes better with good company."

She rested her cheek on her knees. "I wish that were true."

After some silence together, Sakura came to her senses and gave him a covering smile.

"Were you headed back to the room?"

He nodded.

"You go on, Umino-san. I'll stay with my patients tonight."

Iruka could tell he was being avoided and decided it was best to give Sakura her privacy.

He said goodnight and left her there.

He resumed his climb and, by the time he completed the spiral, Iruka thought his legs would give out. Iruka leaned on the balcony railing at the top to catch his breath and watch the hall thrive below. Finally out of the public eye, he let out a long sigh. He sagged into the rail until his chin was resting on it.

The walk had sobered him a little, but not nearly enough. He was still swimming.

A voice close by stopped his heart.

"I thought I'd lost you." Kakashi stood on the stairs directly below him. "Have you had enough excitement?"

Iruka couldn't deny he was happy to have been followed.

Iruka gave an exhausted groan. "What a mess."

"And whose fault is that?" Kakashi chided him.

He sank into the rail. He deserved that. Probably.

"I know, I know. I'm a busybody."

He corrected Iruka as he made his way up, "No, you're worse than that." He was unhurried as he walked behind Iruka. "You're too kind to say no when people push their problems on you," Though Iruka couldn't see his face, the reproof in his tone was clear, "and you're too naïve to realize they're doing it on purpose."

Iruka couldn't deny that either. He gave a self-conscious laugh, "I suppose that's true."

Kakashi planted himself by Iruka, but would not look at him. He watched the people on the balconies instead, almost speaking to himself. It was then Iruka realized the man was fairly drunk.

"If being gullible wasn't enough, you're also reckless. It's a terrible combination."

Iruka was getting a little tired of being criticized. "At least I don't pout when I don't get my way."

"Pout?" Kakashi scoffed, "When have you seen me pout?"

"In the gallery… and in the kitchen."

Kakashi opened his mouth to answer, but puffed out a chuckle instead.

Iruka continued, hiding in his folded arms, "I don't know why you were so angry. I know I was being foolish but—"

Kakashi asked plainly, "What am I supposed to do when you keep running headlong into trouble?"

The question felt honest, but that didn't keep Iruka from provoking him.

"That doesn't justify assaulting the kitchen staff."

Kakashi laughed and rubbed his hair mindlessly, fluffing it.

"I…" He gripped the railing in his hands. "You're too nice."

It wasn't often that he managed to stump Kakashi and Iruka couldn't miss the opportunity to gloat. "Thank you."

Iruka anticipated more criticisms when their gaze locked, but he was met with that faint smile. Iruka's ears burned. Any trace of annoyance in the red and grey eyes had gone. Instead they rumbled with some mysterious torrent and started a fluttering in Iruka's chest.

"So what was that, exactly?"

When Iruka didn't catch on, Kakashi specified.

"In the storeroom?" Kakashi suggestively lifted his brows, "When you jumped on me?"

Iruka's heart dropped like a rock and thudded low in his stomach. Oh. Right. Yes. When he threw this handsome man on the floor. The most humiliating and incredible thing he had ever done in his life.

He made an attempt to sound offhanded, as if he had tripped onto Kakashi by accident.

"What more is there to say? I told you I was sorry."

Kakashi did not falter, "I'm not."

All it took were those two words and Iruka was ripped open. Half of him was infuriated by the knowledge that Kakashi was doing this on purpose. The other half was going right back to a fire akin to the possession. Not the frustration and anger part—oh, no. His drunken mind dangled the taste of Kakashi in front of him. The feeling of his skin, his hair. Iruka was afraid of the impulses that followed. He wasn't ready to be that honest.

What was left of Iruka was crippled with guilt that he had done something that impulsive to someone else while feeling so out of control.

He pushed off the railing and Kakashi was forced to follow. Iruka attacked the shoe rack in search of his geta.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to tease you." Kakashi hovered behind.

Iruka managed to track down his shoes, or a pair that were strikingly similar and the right size, and yanked them from the pile. When he stood straight, he staggered woozily. He fell forward to barge through the wooden doors into the tunnel and attempted to use his renewed focus to push the intoxication aside.

His head was rapidly filling with unnecessary thoughts. He needed air.

Kakashi's voice echoed in the tight space. "Iruka, wait—"

"I'm a grown man. I can handle teasing, but I'd prefer you not lie to get a rise out of me."

"I wasn't lying." He had to practically run to keep up with Iruka as he fled. "I'm not sorry about what happened. Not at all."

He scoffed, "Of course you're not sorry. It's so easy for you—"

"What is?"

They wove along the passage to the stairs under the small teahouse.

Iruka whispered angrily behind him, "This is all just a joke to you, but… I'm…" Iruka flushed, and cut himself off.

"What's a joke? What're you saying?"

He didn't know what he was saying himself. He scaled the steps and trundled out the square door into the garden.

Then Kakashi caught him by the arm.

Kakashi's voice came close, "Talk to me."

Iruka couldn't lift his eyes. The drunken swirl had returned, but it wasn't nausea. He could yank free from Kakashi at any time, but what would he be running from? This was the heart to heart he had been hoping for, wasn't it?

Kakashi squeezed lightly, grounding them both. "Iruka. Look at me."

Iruka hadn't realized how vulnerable it would feel to acknowledge what had been brewing in him from the moment he met Kakashi. But it was coming out all wrong. He had gotten frustrated all by himself and he knew that, but he couldn't think of a way to back out.

What was he so afraid of? He felt so good, so happy when Kakashi looked at him—touched him. The sound of Iruka's name in his voice shivered through him unlike anything else. How was he supposed to explain that kind of thing out loud? The idea of it made his stomach flop. Kakashi's laugh could cast away Iruka's fears and doubts in an instant. Even his grief, buried deep within, was rendered weightless by it. Just the memory of it calmed his anxious heart.

Could it be that easy?

"Iruka."

He faced Kakashi in the dark.

Lights from within Tsunade's teahouse had been extinguished long ago. The night was at its darkest here—leaving the faint and glittering stars. Not quite night and not quite day.

The garden was cradled in this space between worlds.

Though it was hard to see, Kakashi's expression under the mask was soft. Patient.

The ache Iruka saw there rattled through him. Did Kakashi want him too? Did Kakashi know even an ounce of this overwhelming feeling? He was still ashamed of himself, but Iruka had no choice but to answer. He couldn't wait for the thoughts to fully form or they would be lost.

"I didn't… I didn't want it to happen that way." He shook his head, trying to erase the words as they came out. "I don't usually… I'm not—"

Iruka's heart thumped heavily as Kakashi said, "I enjoyed it."

His rattling thoughts vanished in a puff.

Kakashi waited for Iruka's answer, but was provided none. He slowly stepped closer until they were a few inches apart. He took Iruka's hand.

"Do you want to do it over?" He asked.

Iruka allowed Kakashi to guide his hand to the edge of the mask. Together they pulled it down and off his chin. This close, Kakashi's features were clear. His scar, the piercing red eye. The captivating mark at the corner of his lips.

Then Kakashi released him.

Iruka felt shaky. The pounding of Iruka's heart was his only measure of time.

His hand free, it moved on its own. He brushed Kakashi's cheek. His fingertips just barely settled on his skin. The man reflexively shut his eyes as Iruka trailed the scar with his thumb. Kakashi kept his lids closed, waiting.

Iruka could not quell the conflict he felt. He wanted nothing more than to close out the world and indulge himself in the warmth of this man's lips. Yet he knew he wanted more, if it were even possible. He needed more than that.

"What's wrong?" Kakashi kept his eyes shut, as if opening them would break the spell.

"I don't know. I just… I don't understand." Iruka's brows knit together. "Why are you here?"

Kakashi shrugged helplessly and said, "I was bored."

Iruka's hand shot away as if he had been seared. Mismatched eyes snapped open and Kakashi caught him before he could run.

He scrambled, "I'm sorry—I didn't mean it—…"

The only thing rooting Iruka to that spot was Kakashi's touch and the yearning it brought.

Even in the dark Kakashi's face had flushed. "—Stupid. That was stupid. I'm sorry."

Kakashi's hand curled over his. At a loss, he turned Iruka's palm open and examined it. As if he could read their fortune in the lines. The man seemed clumsy now, rather than cunning.

With his gaze low, Kakashi laughed quietly at himself. "I doubt it'll make sense, even if I tell you."

"Try me." Though his heart felt weak, Iruka's gaze was unwavering.

Clumsy though it may be—there could be no more running. For either of them.

Seeing Iruka's resolve, Kakashi tried to begin, "In the woods, I…" He clenched his jaw, unsure of himself. Iruka could see the memory unfolding as he came to the right path. "It didn't matter where I was, every forest looks the same. The days blend together." Aware of himself and the absurdity of it all, he tried to joke about it, "When an old dog is tired, it sleeps. When it's hungry, it looks for food. It doesn't realize it's alone. It doesn't notice if it gets smacked around." He said casually, "It was just another day fighting for scraps. One day in a thousand. It shouldn't have been any different. It shouldn't have mattered." He took a mystified breath, "But it did to you."

Iruka could see it.

He could see the stray standing in the alley. The woods glowed green through the seam between buildings. The stray's head lifted and Iruka waved to it.

Such a small, delicate connection.

"And when I saw a mad man swinging a stick at a flock of Tengu, I couldn't believe it was you. Then again, _only_ you would do something like that." Iruka flinched, and Kakashi laughed at him. "It was amazing!"

Iruka flushed, "Please forget that part."

"Not a chance." Kakashi snickered, and was captivated by the memory. "I'll never forget it. The kind and reckless you." He squinted, baffled, "You're so ready to help other people with absolutely no concern for yourself. Be it a gangster boss…" he added with mirth, "…or a rain-soaked mutt on the side of the road."

The reiteration of Iruka flaws fluttered through him in a new, warm light.

"I've seen you dive in with that fearless stubbornness—" He huffed in disbelief, "—over and over again. It's terrifying. It feels like my heart'll stop. And yet… All I want to do is jump right in with you."

A silence fell over them. Iruka could feel the thudding of Kakashi's pulse against his skin, just as nervous and hesitant as his own. Kakashi's lips drew into a quiet smile and traced Iruka's hand as though it were the most precious think he had ever beheld.

His voice was low, under his breath. "You always go off running the second I look away. And I… I don't want to."

When he lifted his eyes to Iruka, he was a weary ship in an endless storm.

Of all the outrageous things to say, Iruka wished he had said it first.

How could he tear away from this man? Who had come into his life with a crack of thunder.

On that mountain, Iruka had given in. He had forfeited his life to the valley town. Yet when he saw that raggedy dog wrestling for food, with a fire in its belly to survive no matter the cost, something in him had changed. A feeling Iruka had kept locked away was revived in that moment.

The impulse to escape—to be free.

Grab your scraps and run.

That beast had been the embodiment of all he lacked.

The man at the bar laughing at his follies, the unruly child hanging from the inn's balcony, the wandering soul that watched the world turn from afar. Iruka was sure the naked eye would call them opposites—too disparate to ever meet eye to eye.

Perhaps that was it. He felt like he had been chasing a nameless feeling from the start. That there was something more, something hidden in those cold eyes that only Iruka could find. He was dominated by the urge to pry Kakashi open in his hands and take in what he uncovered there—never to let go.

Unable to look away? What right did this man have to say those words first?

With nothing but silence from Iruka, Kakashi had no choice but to recover from his sense of exposure. He tried to play off his words with a grin. "To answer your question… it's you," he said. "I'm here because of you."

This was the man that sat apart from the world, yet there he stood with eyes that reflected Iruka and nothing else.

"You woke me up, Iruka." Kakashi cupped his cheek and caressed it tenderly. "And I want is to hold onto this feeling. Is that so wrong?"

Iruka's chest swelled, full enough to burst.

"No."

Kakashi drew his thumb lightly across Iruka's bottom lip as he spoke. "Can I kiss you?"

Iruka's mouth fell open as his mind went blank. All words faded but one.

"Yes."

Iruka brought his lips to Kakashi and they melted together. A buzzing ran through him and a tear chilled Iruka's cheek at the wistful sweetness of it. His hand wove into Kakashi's silver hair and cradled their faces closer. Just as his knees went weak, Kakashi held him by the small of his back. His other hand moved down Iruka's neck, encouraging him to release into his touch.

Iruka surrendered to it. The world ground to a halt with every brush of skin, every broken breath.

Iruka wondered if it was possible for one moment to destroy everything that came before it. Iruka could feel the burdens he had been carrying—all the things that anchored him—being severed. To feel so at peace, so content—it was frightening.

Iruka wanted more than anything to have his other hand free. Instead it was trapped between them, bound by its wrapping. His shoulder and side ached.

Reading his mind, Kakashi started to open Iruka's kimono. One hand slid under the collar and over Iruka's shoulder, pushing the fabric off. The other felt for the knot of his obi. His skin prickled at the nipping night air.

Then suddenly Kakashi's hands stopped. He righted Iruka's kimono and separated them.

Iruka was flabbergasted until Kakashi spoke.

"I'm sorry," he said, a little winded. "We should go inside. If we get interrupted again I might kill someone."

Iruka couldn't help but chuckle at his dazed honesty. He closed the space to ghost his lips over Kakashi's.

"Lead the way."

Kakashi gave in to the modest kiss, but Iruka ended it too soon. The forlorn furrow of Kakashi's brow didn't escape him. He tracked the line of the Kakashi's jaw with his thumb to tease across his lip with a grin. Reluctant to release him, Kakashi took Iruka's head in his hands. He pressed a kiss to Iruka's forehead, then his cheek.

He swept along Iruka's arm to guide him to the wooden porch where Tsunade had been seated earlier that day. Abandoning their shoes at the edge, Kakashi pulled him up. The spinning from the saké had eased, but left fluidity in Iruka's joints. He practically floated, tethered by Kakashi and nothing else.

The panels within had all been shut, separating them from the interior. They crossed the dark room and discreetly opened the door to the center chamber of the teahouse. There was hardly any light in the hollow space, making it seem much larger. There were a few dim lanterns on the stairs, but most of the light came from the dying moon filtering down the halls which gave the opening an ethereal blue glow.

There was not a soul to be seen.

Kakashi led them across the open floor to the stairs, and a spirited feeling sparked in Iruka. He stifled a laugh as they ascended. What were two grown men doing, sneaking about like adolescents after curfew?

Iruka squeezed their intertwined fingers as they went along the first balcony. Kakashi lagged in response and kissed the back of his hand with an impish smirk.

Unsatisfied, he tugged at their joined hands before Kakashi could take off again. Whatever Kakashi caught in Iruka's expression stopped him in his tracks. The change in his gaze sent a jolt through Iruka and a startled breath escaped him. Kakashi's movement was a molten force as he walked into Iruka, causing him to stumble back. Iruka met the railing and quickly grabbed it to steady himself.

Kakashi trapped Iruka's hand there. His lip twisted deviously as he bowed his head to nibble on Iruka's neck.

"I'm so glad I didn't let that old witch eat you."

"Do you have to mention her—?" His voice broke at the prick of Kakashi's teeth.

Kakashi poured over him. His arm curled around Iruka's waist and his knee pressed between Iruka's legs, twining them together.

"Watching you get tricked was pretty funny, but I think you should listen to your instincts more often."

The heat brewing between them was making Iruka lightheaded.

"Maybe I should start now."

Kakashi smiled against his skin. "Is that right?"

Kakashi made a breath of space between them. Hands on the railing, he hovered over Iruka so their only point of connection was his lips moving slowly on Iruka's neck.

He teased up to Iruka's ear with a low voice. "Do you want me to stop?"

Iruka couldn't trust what sounds might come out if he tried to speak. He answered by gripping Kakashi's obi with a feeble shake of his head.

Kakashi huffed a laugh at the face Iruka was apparently making and dragged the back of his fingers across Iruka's cheek.

Just as he leaned in to kiss him, a drunken rabble tumbled through the front door.

It was Tsunade's crew of gamblers. They lingered at the door while the drunkest of them struggled to sort their shoes. One foot inside, Anko and her young partner were lip locked. Izumo and Kotetsu leaned into each other to stay standing, singing some off-key ballad. Ibiki and a few older gentlemen strolled by, deep in conversation.

The last thing Iruka wanted was to be pulled into whatever shenanigans they had planned.

Iruka yanked Kakashi's kimono and shushed him with a finger at his lip. A snickering Kakashi ducked behind the railing with Iruka and they waddled to the stairs, staying low.

By the time they successfully made it to the third floor in their half crouch, Kakashi's childish and infectious delight was plain on his face. Iruka fought his laughter and pulled Kakashi into a sprint for the last staircase. The sound of their clumsy, pattering footsteps nearly broke them—Iruka was sure the others could hear, but he didn't care.

Just when he believed they had escaped, pain shot up his leg and Iruka faltered.

Kakashi caught him as he fell and they sank to the ground.

Iruka hissed, holding his thigh, and Kakashi pushed Iruka's hair out of the way to examine his face.

"Are you alright?"

Iruka tried to reassure him with a smile, but his body had had it. "It's fine, I tripped." He tried to stand and winced, collapsing to the floor.

Kakashi lifted an incredulous brow. "Uh huh." Without hesitation, he wrapped his arms under the man. "Stay still."

Iruka pushed on Kakashi's chest, but before a word of protest could escape him, he was gently lifted off the ground. Rather than fall again, he swallowed his pride and put his good arm around Kakashi's neck.

"Th-thank you."

Kakashi smirked and settled Iruka into his chest. He glanced about. The voices of their acquaintances were growing louder as they came closer. They would soon be spotted.

Kakashi eyed the final set of stairs, but swept into the hall instead.

They passed out of the lantern's sphere and into the blue, dying night. Kakashi's feet tapped on the wood floor and off the paper walls.

Iruka watched the drunken mob pass behind them. The sound of their sloppy frivolity gushed down the open mouth of the hall. A rush of panic hit—if they turned their heads, the pair would be spotted. But the sounds became muted as they disappeared into one of the nearby rooms.

The thrill of success hit and the pair shared their silent excitement, lest their voices give them away. A breathy laugh slipped out of Iruka and he muffled it in Kakashi's shoulder.

The man walked on, determined to get them to their room before anything else happened.

In the quiet, Iruka took the opportunity to ogle Kakashi without restraint.

With every step, the silver strands that had fallen loose from their tie bounced on Kakashi's shoulders. Even in the darkness, they caught the moon's influence and glimmered like trails of stars.

Iruka caught them and they poured through his hand, more like wisps of smoke than hair. He guided them in the fold of his fingers to gently rest on Kakashi's kimono.

Iruka wondered, as he had before, what of this man was real.

He noticed the tips of wings peeking from Kakashi's collar. The purity of their pigment lifted from his skin. Iruka traced the tattoos with his tan fingers, pushing back the obstructing fabric. He wanted to see the full design once more. He imagined the peonies that spiraled open into camellias, the sleek wings of the cranes that blanketed him, and the white bud slashed by his deep scar.

In his memory, the image was so alive. As if Iruka could run his fingers through the white plumage of the cranes.

He closed his eyes and a drunken dream descended. Iruka wrapped Kakashi closer, resting his chin on the man's shoulders.

Iruka could feel Kakashi's heart beating through his chest—his head filled with the wings of birds. "…beautiful."

Kakashi adjusted his hold around Iruka's back while a hand moved up his thigh. His heart fluttered as Kakashi's long fingers slipped under his kimono to pull him in tighter.

"Hold onto me," Kakashi's voice buzzed in his ear. "We're going upstairs."

Iruka nodded, nestling into his neck.

Their passage between floors barred the moon's touch and a chilling breeze came from the open space above. Iruka tried not to flinch. His skin felt sensitive. In the dark, he became all too aware of their closeness and self-conscious of his own burning heat.

As if a black curtain had been ripped down, the sky expanded endlessly before them on the familiar open balcony.

Half the horizon was still drenched with the dark azure night. The railing of the fourth floor was barely visible, leaving the balcony to fall off into the star peppered sky. Blending like paint in water, the blue glow of the coming day crept closer. There was a pale line at the edge of the world where the sun teased its light.

Iruka was overcome with an unexpected fear. The fledgling dawn filled him with awe, yet the promise of what would follow terrified him. He couldn't understand why.

Feeling him stiffen, Kakashi held Iruka away and cast down his droopy eyes.

"What's wrong?"

Iruka shook his head, avoiding them. "N-nothing."

"Tell me." Kakashi planted an unexpected kiss at the corner of Iruka's mouth.

He could blame it on the drink, or the half dream he was living in. Or how safe he felt. Whatever the reason, his self-awareness was overpowered and he uttered, "I don't want to sleep."

Kakashi dissolved into contented grin and nuzzled into Iruka's cheek.

The only reply Kakashi gave was Iruka's name, quietly in his ear.

Iruka let out an embarrassed laugh and knotting the fabric at Kakashi's back in his hands to burry deeper.

He murmured, "That's… silly, I know."

"Not at all."

Iruka wasn't convinced. He tried to curl up and hide, but Kakashi took the opportunity to slide his arms more snugly around Iruka and hoist him higher. His hands pressed into Iruka with less restraint, molding him in his arms until their bodies were flush.

His breath and voice were muted as he spoke into Iruka's hair.

"I'm the same," he said. Iruka rose with his chest as he took a deep breath. "I don't want to let you go."

Kakashi resumed his walk toward their room, taking slow steps. Iruka's eyes drifted shut and the two swayed together.

Their door was open and two futons awaited them. That pastel sky was spreading and a languid morning with it.

Kakashi eased him to the futon and Iruka muttered shyly, "Sorry, was I heavy?"

As he knelt, Kakashi shook his head into Iruka's neck and brushed his skin with that feathery silver hair. "It's not so bad when you're awake." A mischievous eye peeked at Iruka when he sat back.

Iruka smacked Kakashi's arm and stretched his side painfully in the process. He laid back with an angry hiss.

Kakashi snickered, "Take it easy, Obou-san. You've had a long day."

He crossed the room to shut the door. Iruka observed every footfall, how his fluid legs extended, how his hips shifted to carry his weight. To Iruka it was as if his feet barely touched the ground. He imagined invisible hands glancing off him and guiding him into the next perfect step. It didn't take much to envision the figure hiding beneath the kimono.

Mindlessly, Iruka ran his hand over the futon and focused on the textured fabric under his fingers. His heart pounded against his ribs and he gripped the futon—holding himself together. The room span lazily with the remaining effect of the saké and he shut his eyes in hopes of stopping it. He listened to the door close and Kakashi's approaching steps. The soft thuds resounded through him.

"Iruka." Kakashi brushed his cheek. "Are you asleep?"

When he looked at Kakashi, his brows were knit with a gaze was almost sad.

On impulse Iruka pushed his finger into where they were drawn together.

"Enough of that." He felt like a teacher again, trying to ease the truth out of an unruly student. "What are you thinking about with such a serious face?"

Kakashi sighed and flopped on his side next to Iruka, propping up his head. "I'm afraid I'll wake up and you'll be gone."

Staring harmlessly at the ceiling, Iruka sighed, "We could just stay up until the sun rises."

Kakashi was strangely surprised by the suggestion.

He glanced off with a tiny blush.

"We really shouldn't, Iruka. You're still injured."

Iruka fumbled to clarify, "Oh, I didn't mean that—I just…" He groaned loudly when he ran out of words. The infectious blush crept over him and he looked at the incoming light. The birds were already chirping. "I just wanted to…"

He was startled at Kakashi's warm hand on his stomach, rubbing and gripping the fabric of his obi.

"W-what?"

Very nonchalantly, Kakashi slid his hand into Iruka's kimono and traced the circle of his bellybutton.

"Do you want to stay up? Just for a bit."

Iruka caught Kakashi's hand.

Taking the action as a refusal, Kakashi started to pull away. "Sorry. We can just—"

Unable to form the words, he squeezed Kakashi's hand. All Iruka's tiredness vanished in a flare of heat through his body. He absently ran his tongue over his bottom lip.

Kakashi twined their fingers and brought them by Iruka's head. He thumbed at the now wet lip with his free hand. Iruka brushed his tongue across the pad of Kakashi's finger and ducked his head to kiss it, keeping an eye on Kakashi's increasingly heady stare.

Kakashi bowed to kiss him. He started slowly at first, but it didn't take much to rile Iruka up until his lips and tongue tingled—sensitive to even the slightest bite and suckle. Iruka whimpered in their mouths and squirmed within the wrap that held his arm.

Iruka's arousal was impossible to mistake in this position and, with growing embarrassment that Kakashi would notice, he bent a leg to shift their position. Kakashi had other ideas. He lifted from the relentless kiss and straddled Iruka in one smooth motion.

A jolt shot through Iruka when Kakashi's erection pressed into his own.

There was enough delighted mockery in the man's smile that Iruka was positive Kakashi was being intentionally torturous.

Kakashi licked his lips with that devious tongue and Iruka couldn't help but see himself as very stupid prey. Practically skipping into the jaws of a good-looking predator.

He wished he had at least one hand at his disposal to pay Kakashi back—even the odds a little, but when he tried to free it again Kakashi flattened it into the futon meaningfully.

"Lie back, Iruka. We have to be gentle."

Kakashi released Iruka, teasing fingers down his arm.

Iruka complied, his freed hand almost shaking. It was hard to believe how much he had wanted to feel this good—the relief that came, just knowing who was touching him.

The cool hand went under Iruka's kimono and over his chest, dipping his fingers into his collar bone. The other wove through his hair, then along his neck. Iruka turned his head, exposing his skin to the touch. They were fairly innocent motions, and Iruka was only too conscious of how his body was overreacting.

He didn't know what Kakashi was planning, but he was going to lose his mind at this rate.

Then the fingers were gone.

The mischievous grin couldn't disguise Kakashi's desire.

"It's been a long day. Maybe we should go to sleep after all."

The flush was filling Iruka's head so badly he felt dizzy. The aching was enough to choke his words.

Kakashi asked, "What do you want?"

Breaking Kakashi's unspoken rule, Iruka reached for him.

He wasn't begging. He demanded it.

"Don't stop."

A delighted smile on his face, Kakashi pressed his lips to Iruka's extended hand. As ordered, he bent to Iruka and kissed him once more. Iruka was well past the point of keeping track of Kakashi's movements. One hand pushed Iruka's kimono off his shoulder while the other went under him, undoing the obi's knot. He arched into Kakashi and was scolded.

"Relax, Iruka." He scooted down, planting kisses on Iruka's chest.

He fondled Iruka's fundoshi with one hand while pulling off the kimono to tease a nipple with his nail. Iruka bit his lip against it. Kakashi's tongue flicked his nipple until it perked nicely. The kimono dropped from Iruka's thighs—the obi long gone. Fingers slipped under the band of fabric at his hips and Iruka turned his head into the futon, fighting the sounds trying to escape.

Kakashi lifted his head, but kept his hand moving between Iruka's legs. Iruka panted, thankful for the small reprieve.

"Where do you think we are, Obou-san? You won't get in trouble for making a little noise."

Iruka glared back, "You're doing that on purpose—!"

Despite his efforts, Iruka cried out when Kakashi took the bead of his nipple between his teeth. "Ah… so it seems."

He cupped Iruka's peck, soothing the bite with the flat of his thumb. Iruka could feel the other nipple hardening against the wrap binding his arm. Kakashi saw it and grinned. He twisted the exposed nipple and was pleasantly surprised when Iruka throbbed into his other hand in response. Iruka covered his mouth as he moaned.

Kakashi's voice seemed to come from far off—yet it shuddered through him.

"I already know you're enjoying yourself, there's no reason to hold back. We've just started."

Iruka trembled as Kakashi skimmed his fingers through the trail of hair on his stomach. After freeing Iruka's erection, Kakashi took a moment to admire the view and made Iruka blush anew. Trapped and exposed, he hid in the crook of his arm. Those same hands that washed him at the bathhouse sculpted his shape without restraint. Outlining every bend and muscle and bone. Not watching Kakashi do it was almost worse—he could feel it that much more.

"Your skin is burning hot," he fanned his fingers out to emphasize this, "and beautiful." Then Iruka felt Kakashi's lips press inch by inch down his stomach. "You're beautiful."

From behind his arm, he barked—voice cracking, "St-op talking."

Kakashi only chuckled. "It's too late to be embarrassed."

His eyes shot open when Kakashi lifted his leg. Their gaze locked and Kakashi paused there, kneeling between Iruka's open legs with his mouth hovering by the thin skin of his inner thigh.

"There you are." He planted a kiss on the sensitive skin, sucking at it and nipping. Iruka muffled a groan, but that wasn't enough for Kakashi. He chomped on the flesh and Iruka's shocked cry echoed back. "You have to tell me if I'm doing a good job. It's been a while."

Iruka's whole body shook with terrified laughter. "Keep those teeth away from me!"

Kakashi settled Iruka's thigh on his shoulder. "Just making sure you're still alive."

"You're the one who—"

He squeezed Iruka's ass, cutting him off.

"I changed my mind. I need encouragement."

Iruka sighed and gruffly pet Kakashi's hair, "Y-you don't have to do this for me."

Kakashi blinked at him. "Who said I was doing it for you?" He licked Iruka's thigh. "You've fallen right into my trap."

Iruka's breath caught when Kakashi coiled a hand around his shaft. If he had to describe the twinkle in Kakashi's eye, he'd say sinister.

He was stroked firmly from root to tip, wringing out a startled moan.

Kakashi laughed, "A little pent up?"

"Shut up," he hissed, but had little time to be mad at the blatant taunting.

Unable watch, Iruka covered his eyes and listened to the sound of his own uneven pants bouncing around the room. The long strokes continued, tortuously slow and a hot wet tongue lapped at his balls. Kakashi pulled one into his mouth, then the other. Iruka writhed in a halfhearted escape, but was held steady by the leg on Kakashi's shoulder. Determined to devastate him, the man's hand made shorter passes, focusing on the head of Iruka's cock. He ran an occasional finger over the top, smearing the precum gathered there and slicking his touch.

Iruka was mortifyingly close and bit into his arm to fight it. Glancing down, Kakashi's eyelids were drooped—focused intently on his work. The sight of that and the brush of Kakashi's hair on Iruka's thigh was enough to send him over. Just as he felt a release coming, the ring of Kakashi's fingers tightened at the base of his cock. With a mangled sound, the thwarted orgasm ripped through Iruka and his leg went limp on Kakashi's back.

Those predatory eyes snapped up to him. Want, anger, and determination were bizarrely jumbled together in that gaze.

Something suddenly made sense to Iruka.

Listless and desperate, Iruka laughed from the back of his throat. His protective arm fell away and he stared at the ceiling. He tested his voice, humming another little laugh.

The man was evil after all, but maybe he was on to something.

When Kakashi dragged his tongue on the underside of Iruka's shaft, he let the sound come out on its own. The vibration of it tingled through his chest to his fingertips.

He found Kakashi with his free hand and thread fingers into his hair. Kakashi smirked, licking his lips. While keeping his grip at the base, he molded a wet kiss onto the head of his cock, flicking his tongue over the slit. Each little cry from Iruka traveled further, shocking him with jittery pleasure down to his curling toes. When Kakashi finally took him in his mouth, the room disappeared. His world narrowed to his own bursts of sound and Kakashi's reciprocating tongue that readily answered him.

A choked orgasm hit him again and he gripped Kakashi's hair with painful strength. Kakashi flinch around him.

His cognizance flooded back. Panicking, he grabbed a fistful of the futon instead and grit his teeth to maintain reason. He went quiet, willing Kakashi to get on with it before he lost control.

Kakashi pulled off to take a breather. He took Iruka's hand from the futon and put it to his cheek to kiss his palm. "Where's my encouragement, sensei?"

Breath ragged, Iruka took Kakashi's face in his hand. It scared him. He was afraid of what he might do. He thumbed under Kakashi's eye apologetically.

Kakashi shook his head, snickering. "You can't hurt me." He leaned into Iruka's touch, eyes closing peacefully. "I don't think you can hurt anyone."

Kakashi skimmed along Iruka's thigh and lightly kissed him there. Iruka stroked Kakashi's head and that ache returned, clutching at his heart. Feeling that same longing in Kakashi's touch was almost too much to bear.

He gently churned the base of Iruka's cock as he asked, "Does it feel good?"

The pleasure had changed. It didn't prickle and bite at him. It was a building heat that lifted him from the floor, gradually saturating him. Fluid and unstoppable.

He held Kakashi's gaze.

"Y-es." A smile crept up, "It feels good."

Saying it somehow made the feeling stronger.

Devilishly satisfied, Kakashi held Iruka by his hip and took his full length in his mouth. Iruka's head fell back with an inarticulate sound meant to be Kakashi's name. He didn't fight it anymore. His voice reverberated, building on the sensation and overwhelming time itself. Awareness of Kakashi's actions poofed away, hands—mouth—it didn't matter.

Bubbling up like laughter, his mouth dropped open on a smile. He said it again, as if giving himself permission.

He clutched at Kakashi's hair, fingers digging into his neck, his shoulder.

When the pleasure finally seized him, pulling in from the farthest reaches of a vessel that had lost its barriers, orgasm tore through in waves.

He collapsed, skin prickling. Panting, staring sightlessly above.

He could absently feel Kakashi's tongue on his stomach and sensitive cock. A moan slipped out here and there as Kakashi meticulously cleaned him. The hand on Kakashi's head was too weak to hold on, but smoothed a piece of his hair between his boneless fingers.

Then suddenly Kakashi was grinning down at him. He rubbed a hand calmly across Iruka's chest, back and forth. Iruka could only imagine what he looked like in this state, but he was too blissful to feel bashful.

Not sure of what else to say—and too exhausted to consider reciprocating—he apologized.

"This doesn't seem fair."

Kakashi shrugged. "There's always next time." He eyed Iruka's various bandages. "Maybe when you're not so banged up."

The promise of a next time didn't sound bad at all.

Iruka curled forward and beckoned Kakashi with a glance.

Kakashi blinked in surprise, covering his mouth a little, "Iruka, I'm—"

"I don't care." He took Kakashi's collar in his hand and pulled them both to the floor. "Kiss me."

Kakashi snickered against his lips as Iruka locked into him, holding the back of his neck. His taste in Kakashi's mouth made him shiver.

Kakashi broke away, "Just a second, Iruka."

He got up and snatched the unused futon from the floor. He threw it where the wall met the open railing, arranging it haphazardly. Then he returned for Iruka. He stood over the man with his hands on his hips, assessing him.

Completely deadpan, he confessed, "You're magnificent."

Iruka snapped—not sure if he was being teased or if Kakashi had lost his mind with lack of sleep.

"Give it a rest!"

Kakashi promptly knelt and scooped Iruka up, "Alright, alright."

"Kakashi—!?"

He cradled Iruka and kissed his temple, which effectively pacified the grumpy, lethargic man.

He realized there wasn't really a point in putting up a fuss, so Iruka draped his arm over Kakashi's shoulder as he was carried to the edge of the room. Kakashi dropped to the ground and threw the futon over them.

Iruka fell into Kakashi's warm chest, buried under the covers as Kakashi got them comfortable. The crisp breeze hit Iruka's feet and he sucked them under.

When Iruka's head broke free of the futon, all of Enten stretched at their feet.

Lingering dew gave the city an ephemeral haze. There were people starting their day, opening their stores and attending to their errands. The buildings in the distance were tiny, like clay replicas. Iruka could pluck them from the earth if he wanted.

Kakashi finished tucking them into their little nook and snuggled into Iruka. "How's this? It shouldn't be long now."

Iruka was confused until he noted the sky. The navy blanket was warming with dusty peach light across the horizon. Kakashi was right. It wouldn't be much longer before the new day would begin.

Fog still rested at the foot of the mountain and poured into the part of the city hiding in shadow. The towering storm clouds over the mountain had not dispersed. Their shaded side was a splatter of night, while the edges were tinged with the gold of the imminent sun.

When the young dawn did set the sky ablaze with red and orange, it blinded him. He barred it with his hand and the light outlining his fingers until his eyes adjusted.

He let out a long, peaceful sigh and drifted to the steady pace of the kind heart beating at his back.

Feeling the inescapable lull of sleep, Iruka shifted to the side so he could look at Kakashi.

His voice barely above a whisper, he said Kakashi's name.

Hearing the invitation, Kakashi kissed him once more.

They folded together. Tiredness and comfort melted their bones.

Iruka's eyes floated shut without fear. The warmth of the sun and the bright red glow behind his eyelids were there to remind him it wasn't just a dream.

* * *

...

This was a crazy chapter. It started and ended in so many different places before this final version. But I'm happy with it! Early iterations had our boys killing the gremlins... which was... super depressing! So we didn't do that! And thank goodness, honestly... they'll need all the friends they can get.  
And the smut was unexpected. At least for me! Hahahahahaaaa

Thanks for reading as always! I'll see you next time!


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